#freckle and I will write this eventually and it will be beautiful
Text
you know me (better than i know myself)
bakugou katsuki x reader
katsuki is hopelessly in love with his best friend until you waltz into his life and warp it beyond his recognition.
rating: mature, 18+, MDNI
wc : 10.4k (holy fuck)
tags : mild to heavy angst, fluff, eventual smut, hurt/comfort, gn!reader (they/them pronouns), afab!reader, unrequited love (not between reader and kats), depictions of mild depression, genderfluid!denki, queer!katsuki, reader has a quirk, oral (reader receiving), p-in-v intercourse, unprotected intercourse (wrap it b4 u tap it pls!), soft katsuki, and they were roommates :0, Not Beta Read, i think that’s it T^T
an: this is the first thing i’ve genuinely written in over a year and jesus it was like i was possessed writing it LMFAO incredibly self indulgent and i had a lot of fun writing it! i hope you guys enjoy it (pls rb n leave feedback pls pls pls)
read on ao3
the warm light of the coffee table lamp casts a beautiful shadow across the planes of eijirou’s face — his sharp, angular nose, smooth cheekbones, plush lips that form a sheepish smile — and katsuki can’t even appreciate it, not with the absolute bullshit that pours from his best friend’s lips.
“the fuck you mean, you’re moving out?”
the words come out a lot harsher than katsuki intends, but he can’t even bring himself to feel guilty, not even when kiri’s face screws up in clear disappointment.
“well, uh, i told you, this new place is closer to my agency so it makes more sense. the commute’ll be much shorter and, uh…” he trails off then, a pretty pink blush spreading across his nose, highlighting the small spattering of freckles that katsuki is certain he’s the only one who’s ever noticed, a broiling heat setting alight in his stomach.
he feels like he might die.
“and.. kaito finally asked me to move in with him.”
there it is. fuckin’ kaito.
katsuki is far from an idiot — people call him a lot of names (brash, inconsiderate, a righteous asshole), but never dumb. they couldn’t unless they were outright lying.
part of what makes katsuki so intelligent is his observance.
of course he’s noticed eijirou’s late nights, his suspicious absences at group get togethers, the sweet smiles he makes as he taps at his phone screen, the fucking hickies.
bakugou katsuki is not stupid. he’s incredibly observant. especially when it comes to the massive crush he’s been harboring on his best friend for the last three years.
he’s not entirely sure when his reluctant tolerance of the bright redhead shifted to something more but he knows he’s been viciously, painfully pining over him day in and day out in the weeks (months, years) since.
and it’s not like kirishima hasn’t had partners before. he’s nearly impossible to resist with his intense attentiveness, his willingness to go above and beyond for those close to him, not to mention his insane physique, built from long hours out on the field and in the gym.
it’s no wonder katsuki has been in love with him for as long as he has been — eijirou is perfect.
perfectly imperfect, of course. he gets upset when katsuki sorts his clothes for him (“i’m an adult, okay? it makes me feel like you’re parenting me, man.”) or when he lectures him on his diet, or when he shuts him out after being friends for so long (when his feelings become too much to handle), but eijirou’s the only one who’s stayed.
katsuki has tried flings and a few more serious relationships but those have ended quickly because he’s just too much.
too loud. too frustrating. too closed off. too him.
but not for eijirou. never for eijirou.
that’s why when kiri mentioned he was talking to this new guy, he brushed it off. it would be like all the others who would eventually break it off because of the long hours at work or eijirou’s boundless enthusiasm and katsuki would be there to pick the sopping wet, heartbroken kiri off the ground and put him back together. they didn’t deserve him anyway.
but this kaito? apparently katsuki’s eagerness to ignore eijirou’s flings made him blind to what was happening — eiji wasn’t his anymore.
he’s moving out.
he’ll be gone forever.
subconsciously, katsuki realizes he’s been silent for far too long and that eijirou’s face has lost the hurt and is now painted with concern and confusion.
fuck, even now, he’s concerned. he cares so so much, except in the way katsuki craves.
“uh,” kirishima’s gentle voice breaks him from his thoughts, a big hand finding its way to katsuki’s knee, “are you okay dude?”
the touch sears through the expensive black joggers katsuki is wearing and he flinches so hard, he jostles the coffee table to his side. he barely sees kirishima’s brows furrow as he launches himself to standing, the telltale burn behind his eyes signaling the incoming wave of tears.
he can’t see katsuki like this, he fucking can’t.
katsuki marches to the kitchen, opening up the fridge and blankly staring into it while he tries to will the water back into his face and still the turmoil burning in his chest.
it feels like he’s aflame, like he’s suffocating, drowning.
he can hear kirishima’s steps behind him but thankfully stopping a reasonable distance away as he calls his name again, desperation coloring the word.
fuck.
with everything he has in him, katsuki grabs a random bottle from the refrigerator (a smoothie eijirou made for him with far too much kale and too little milk and a little note attached with his name and a smiley face. he’s gonna be sick.) and turns to face him, a strained, shaky grimace painting his lips.
“that’s-“ his voice cracks hard and he desperately clears his throat, blinking hard when he sees eijirou reach out for him and stop. “that’s fuckin’— that’s great. ‘m happy for you.”
the words feel like glass inching their way out of his throat and while he knows he sounds anything but, the words seem to do the trick, kirishima’s face lighting up like a fucking christmas tree.
“that means so much to me, man!” this time, he doesn’t stop himself from wrapping katsuki up in a hug, the full body contact sending a wracking shiver through his body. “and don’t worry! we’ll still hang out all the time and i’ll — yes! — finally be able to introduce you to kaito — you’re gonna love him, and-“
katsuki has to tune him out, if just to keep a hold on his sanity because otherwise, he’s gonna break.
he keeps it together through the rest of the conversation about kaito, tuning in only to give time appropriate grunts and hums while pretending like his entire world isn’t imploding in on itself.
he keeps it together, miraculously, as kirishima packs up his things, the evidence of their entwined lives for the past five years disappearing into cardboard boxes over the span of a few weeks.
he even keeps it together when he meets kaito on the move out date, even if it’s just barely. kaito is handsome — tall, taller than katsuki, with windswept brown hair, bright brown eyes and a dimple in his left cheek. if he wasn’t so fucking in love with eiji, he wouldn’t mind taking a piece out of him, but as it were, the sight of kaito makes him genuinely sick to his stomach.
it’s even worse that kaito is so nice. his quirk is even nicer — some nature type that makes it impossible for plants to die when touched by him. they turn to him like he’s the fucking sun and eiji does too.
by the time all kirishima’s stuff is packed up in the back of kaito’s truck, bile is burning at the back of katsuki’s throat as he says his final goodbye to kiri in the way of a bone crushing hug that doesn’t last as long as he wishes, as he craves.
kiri sends him a blinding smile as he climbs into the passenger seat of the truck, looking all too at home against the worn blue leather seats.
it’s now when katsuki wishes he was a little less observant because the hand kaito gently places on kirishima’s thigh and the subsequent full body blush makes him sick.
he waits on the curb the appropriate amount of time as the pair drive away before racing back into his building, up the stairs, into his unit and straight to the bathroom, kneeling over the toilet and heaving, chills wracking his body despite the sweat on his brow.
nothing comes out (praise whoever above because katsuki hates vomiting) and he slumps against the porcelain, resting his heated skin against the toilet seat.
he thought… fuck, katsuki has no idea what he thought, but he didn’t expect it to hurt this bad. he feels a little like he’s dying and lot like he’ll never be okay again. that kirishima walked out with his heart and all he’ll be for the rest of his life is a walking husk of a human being.
a wave of nausea overtakes him again and he debates leaning back over the toilet, but exhaustion overwhelms him and he falls asleep against the wall of his bathroom, sweaty, sick, and heartbroken.
(the next morning, he wakes up to a pounding headache and two texts from eijirou.
he drinks a shit ton of water first and pops an advil before opening the messages.
EIJI (18:21) : just got to kaito’s! dude it’s so nice i can’t believe ill be living here now ><
katsuki has to take a deep breath to fight against the wave of pain that hits him right in the gut, but he keeps reading, the second text simultaneously warming him and twisting the knife.
EIJI (18:25) : i’m gonna miss you so much kats T^T so weird living without you
he stares at the message until his vision swims before liking the second message and turning off his phone, tossing it onto the couch and trudging to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him.)
the next few weeks prove to be incredibly difficult.
a new case is brought to best jeanist’s desk and as the best sidekick at the agency, he’s placed in charge of heading the search and capture of an elusive invisibility quirk villain.
the days are long and exhausting, and more often than not, he doesn’t even have time to miss kirishima or notice his things missing from the apartment — he gets home, makes a barebones meal and collapses on the couch for what feels like a four hour nap until he has to turn back around and do it all over again.
it’s sustainable until it isn’t.
a few too many missed meals and restless hours of sleep has him passing out in a morning briefing, prompting best jeanist to send him home for a mandatory two week “vacation.”
it’s a prison sentence, is what it is.
at home, there’s nothing to distract him from the utter lack of kirishima, from the idea that the one person who has seen all of him and loved him anyway has left.
most days it’s too much to bear, so instead, he sleeps.
the usual tidiness of his space slowly deteriorates as he wastes away, waking only to scarf down whatever is left in his refrigerator before going right back to bed.
his friends text him often — hanta, denki, even fuckin’ hitoshi — but he ignores them all. the texts from kirishima are the hardest to delete, all concerned words and pleas for them to just talk, but he does it anyway.
it’s better this way, he tells himself. this way, no one else is dragged down by his self pity.
izuku ends up being the one to break the streak on day nine of radio silence.
a knock resounds at his door and he ignores it, pulling his blankets high above his mussed blonde hair, effectively hiding him from view as he hopes whoever is there spontaneously combusts or, better yet, just leaves.
when the knocks stop, he believes the latter has just occurred and he sighs in relief, completely missing the sound of metal creaking and his doorknob falling to the ground.
he’s debating on taking another melatonin to find the sweet release of sleep once more when his bedroom door opens up and he startles, launching up out of bed, hands and quirk at the ready to destroy the intruder, but he’s slow, too slow.
izuku is on him in a moment, pinning him to the bed and disregarding his gnashing teeth and cursing to look him over with a detached gaze.
“katsuki,” he says, voice firm in effectively shutting him up, despite the way he wriggles for freedom (so ineffectively, it’s embarrassing), “you look like dogshit.”
a harsh bark of laughter escapes katsuki’s throat and even from his angle where he’s pressed into his pillows, he sees izuku’s expression soften.
“you’ve lost your tact, deku,” he responds, his words gravelly from disuse. izuku scoffs but lets him up, taking a step over a pile of clothes on the ground to lean against the desk opposite of the bed.
with his newfound freedom, katsuki sits up, absentmindedly rubbing his now sore shoulder, the pain oddly grounding. izuku watches the motion with the intense focus he’s carried throughout his entire life, though he’s a far cry from the boy who used to break his bones and cry over injured birds.
now, he’s built like a brick house, forest green curls tapered into a flattering modern undercut, the fat from his cheeks transforming into something more chiseled and adult. his eyes aren’t as soft either — they’re tired and, as he looks at katsuki’s form, tinged with worry.
“where have you been? no one has heard from you in a week.”
katsuki rolls his eyes, looking away from the gaze that pins him, the gaze he tried so hard to get to look at him without fear. there isn’t a hint of fear in them now, but katsuki is afraid there’ll be disappointment and that’s almost worse.
“none of your fuckin’ business,” he grunts out and he immediately knows it was the wrong response. besides eijirou, izuku knows him the best and after all they’ve been through, he doesn’t deserve this.
he never deserved any of it.
with that thought spinning around in his head, katsuki rubs a hand over his face with a quiet curse, leaning back against the headboard.
“fuck, i’m sorry,” it comes out as a mutter, but its effect on izuku is instantaneous. the previous hardness of his expression melts and he moves closer, his bushy brows furrowing together. katsuki can barely look at him but he does anyway, he makes himself. izuku deserves that much (he deserves so much more but one day at a time).
“we’re just worried about you,” izuku says quietly but without pity. never pity. “what’s going on?”
maybe it’s the way izuku’s freckled face reminds him far too much of eijirou’s own spattering of constellations or maybe it’s the fact katsuki hasn’t eaten in over fifteen hours, but he shatters in that moment, crystal tears filling up carmine eyes.
if izuku is startled at katsuki’s sudden change of emotions, he doesn’t show it, instead moving to envelop katsuki in his arms, allowing him to bury his face in the crook of his shoulder and let go.
katsuki tells him everything and by the end of it, his head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton and his eyes are puffy and red, but he feels better than he did all week.
izuku just looks thoughtful from his place sitting near the end of katsuki’s bed, the pair parting somewhere in between katsuki’s admission of throwing up when seeing kaito and kirishima together and his accidental confession of stealing one of eijirou’s hoodies from one of the boxes (it sits right under his pillow, but izuku doesn’t need to know that).
“i’m really sorry, katsuki. that fucking sucks,” izuku ends up saying and katsuki’s initial reaction is anger. he spills his heart and guts out to izuku and all he gets is that sucks? but when he opens his mouth to give deku a piece of his mind, he realizes that it does suck. it sucks royal ass and there’s nothing he or izuku can do to fix it - at least not yet - but the acknowledgment, without any attempt to give advice or make everything better, does wonders for katsuki.
he pushes out a watery laugh, his lip ticking up into a smile - for the first time in weeks - and izuku lights up a little. “yeah. it really fuckin’ does.”
the smile izuku sends back is blinding and for the one thousandth time, katsuki is reminded why the symbol of peace is just that.
they talk for a little while longer before izuku forces katsuki into the shower. he takes a long time, letting the scalding hot water turn cold before he emerges to find that his childhood best friend has started cleaning up the mess that has become of his apartment.
katsuki watches on for a moment until izuku raises an eyebrow at him and offers him a trash bag which he takes wordlessly, a wave of affection crashing over him so quickly tears come to his eyes. he blinks them away but he doesn’t miss the knowing smile izuku sends his way.
the pair work together in relative silence until the apartment is spotless and katsuki’s stomach is grumbling something fierce. izuku makes his way to the fridge but is met with nothing but a half carton of eggs and a rotting smoothie in the far corner, a sticky note attached to the lid. he fixes katsuki with a small, sad smile before digging through his drawers for a takeout menu.
when the food arrives, katsuki finishes it in record time and he can’t tell if it’s the fact they remembered to make it extra spicy or if it’s because he literally can’t remember the last time he had an actual meal, but it’s the best thing he’s eaten in a long time.
after they finish, izuku turns on the television and they both spend the evening shit talking a d-list hero film until they fall asleep on the couch, bodies slumped against one another, holding each other up.
—
that night seems to have knocked something loose in katsuki because the next morning, he wakes with his first alarm and heads to the gym for the first time since his mandatory vacation. by the end of it, his arms are burning from quirk overuse and he’s completely wiped, but he feels more like himself than he has in ages.
he finally texts his friends back (barring one) and they greet him back with high levels of enthusiasm and concern. it feels good to be received back into the fold with the love he’d thought he’d lost, his cheeks hurting with how much he’s smiling as the messages roll in.
katsuki finishes out his sentence and goes back to work on the fourteenth day with an earnest apology to best jeanist and a new lead on the villain after pouring over the case files in between hyperintensive workouts at the gym. best jeanist is quietly impressed, but the squeeze to the shoulder he gives katsuki tells him he was more worried about him than he let on.
the next few weeks pass in a blur, but this time it’s more pleasant. he watches shitty movies with izuku, deletes instagram when he sees a photo of kaito and kirishima on holiday in america, starts attending a pottery class on the weekends he has off with mina and denki, continues to ignore the texts from eijirou that are becoming more and more infrequent as time goes on, smokes with hanta and shinsou one evening and laughs harder than he ever has, and life feels like it’s slowly gaining its footing once again.
he realizes three months after kirishima had moved out that he should probably start looking for a new roommate or downgrade to something more reasonable. he seriously considers the latter, but when he looks at the space he cultivated right after he graduated from ua, he realizes he can’t quite give the place up.
he posts an ad on craigslist that night.
the next time the group goes drinking (kirishima is suspiciously absent, despite his reentry into the country a few days prior — mina mentioned it), katsuki brings up his roommate problem and denki latches on, his cheeks pleasantly flushed from the wine he’s been sipping on.
“oh, oh! i know - i know the perrrrfeeccttt roommate for you,” he slurs, toying with the earring dangling from his ear and fixing his excited gaze on katsuki’s face. “they’re like.. the besttt, dude, you’d - you’d love them.”
the words are vague, but when katsuki opens up his mouth to ask for more details, denki’s eyes widen and he rushes off to the bathroom, a hand over his mouth, nearly tripping over the his platform shoes and maxi skirt.
the topic of the roommate is quickly forgotten then, but it resurfaces a few days later at pottery class.
katsuki is glaring holes into the side of his slightly lopsided vase on the pottery wheel, internally going through the steps to see where he went wrong. denki to the left of him laughs and chatters as he makes his, frankly, hideous ceramic, the clay warped beyond recognition.
something in his one-sided conversation brings his attention to katsuki who’s startled at the sound of his name coming from denki’s mouth.
“yo, you still looking for a roommate?” he asks, tilting his head as a strand of hair falls from the lengthening ponytail at the back of his head. without alcohol in his system, denki looks a little more hesitant to be approaching this topic, but does so when he isn’t met with a howitzer to the face.
the group doesn’t know much of anything, just that kirishima and katsuki aren’t talking, so they tend to tread lightly around the subject. katsuki appreciates it, genuinely, but he’s not going to shatter at the sound of eijirou’s name - not anymore. it hurts still, of course, but the pain has dulled to a steady hum that he can ignore if he tries hard enough.
“yeah,” he grunts, turning his eyes back at his vase. “why? you got someone in mind?”
denki grins, showing off the lightning tooth gems on his canine. “hell yeah! i’ll give you their number — they teach the watercolor class here on tuesdays and they’re so cool.”
he speaks about you with obvious adoration and katsuki belatedly wonders if the two of you are dating, but doesn’t voice this curiousity, instead wordlessly handing denki his phone to put in your contact as “ROOMIE” with what feels like a hundred paint emojis after it. katsuki smiles at his friend’s antics and can’t quite bring himself to change it.
the colorful contact remains untouched for about another week until he gets a rent notice and remembers the little paint palettes in his phone.
in the middle of his morning workout, he taps out a quick text to you, before tossing his phone to the side and promptly forgetting about it.
katsuki [09:27] : Hey. I’m Bakugou. Denki gave me your number. I’m looking for a roommate. You interested?
ROOMIE [10:16] : oh hey yeah i’m interested
ROOMIE [10:17] : do you want 2 meet td
ROOMIE [10:17] : i’m at the cafe on 5th n cherry
ROOMIE [10:17] : in the back
ROOMIE [10:19] : i’ll b here 4 a while
ROOMIE [10:19] : just come whenever
katsuki only sees the message at the end of his workout a half hour later. the number of messages in a row and less than ideal grammar makes him turn up his nose but he quickly taps out an affirmative, before dapping izuku up and heading to the showers.
he makes it to the cafe twenty minutes later, scanning the place to see what he assumes is you tucked away in the back corner, your table full with books, papers, paints, your laptop and at least four empty cups of coffee.
katsuki raises an eyebrow at the sight but walks over anyway, telling himself he’s doing denki a favor by meeting someone he thinks so highly of so he won’t feel too bad when he tells him it’s not going to work out.
you don’t look up when he stops at your table, too occupied with the piece of art in front of you, your face twisted up in intense concentration.
you’re quite pretty, he notes subconsciously, the hard set of your eyes and one track focus reminding him an awful lot of himself when he’s swept into a difficult case. your complete unawareness gives him more time to take you in, though, so he can’t even bring himself to be too annoyed.
you’re wearing a bright yellow chargebolt hoodie that clashes terribly with your garishly pink acid queen baggy sweatpants. a pair of cellophane socks cover your feet where they’re stretched out in the seat across from you and your shoes (made to look like the red ones from deku’s costume, jesus christ) sit haphazardly beneath the table, empty.
it’s such a bizarre sight, katsuki almost laughs — almost — but he doesn’t, instead opting to knock your feet off the chair opposite you so he can sit down.
“a big fan of heroes, huh?” he asks, the action coupled with his words startling you so bad, your knees hit the underside of the table, threatening to upend all the precariously balanced objects decorating the surface.
you look angry at first before you realize who it is and once you do, you just look relieved. it’s an unusual reaction, one katsuki rarely gets from anyone who isn’t actively in danger, especially strangers.
“you scared the absolute shit out of me,” you say tiredly, rubbing a hand over your face and sighing. katsuki watches you recognize your own impoliteness in real time, a sheepish smile spreading across your lips.
pretty.
“fuck, sorry,” you extend a paint splotched hand to him and he takes it, shaking it firmly before it falls back to his side, fingers tingling. “i get super into shit and completely forget where i am. kami gets onto me about it all the time. says i’m prime villain bait or some shit. i think he’s saying it most of the time to freak me out, but he might actually be right. don’t ever tell him i said that though.”
katsuki can’t help but stare at you as you ramble at him with the familiarity of someone who’s known him for months, not just a few minutes. it’s uncomfortable in a strangely nice way and he can feel his muscles loosen as the nerves melt away.
“aw fuck, i’m sorry again. i didn’t introduce myself.”
you give him your name, offering your hand out for him to shake once more which he does with an amused look painting his expression. you don’t seem to notice, your attention being grabbed by the piece in front of you again.
“i’m bakugou,” he offers after a moment of silence. you don’t even look up when you respond.
“i know. you sent me that text, remember? also you’re like, super fucking famous, dynamight,” you look up at him through your lashes, teasing, and heat unexpectedly blooms on the back of his neck.
what the fuck?
in a bid to gain back control of the conversation (and himself) katsuki asks, “what’re you workin’ on? dunceface said you’re a painter or some shit.”
your nose crinkles at the moniker, but you don’t say anything about it, instead turning the sketchbook around for katsuki to look at it.
the piece is stunning, but it’s visceral and he can’t help but lean back a little when looking at it, stomach dropping.
a deer lays on the ground, gutted, blood, guts and viscera pouring out of its abdomen as a figure just out of frame reaches inside and pulls out its heart.
katsuki is disgusted but intrigued and that feeling only amplifies when you press a finger to the painting and activate your quirk.
suddenly, the hand in the painting moves so realistically he flinches — he can hear the deer’s heart beat, can hear the way the blood trickles through the blades of grass, can smell the coppery tang and can feel the rush of spring wind blowing past his face.
it’s like he’s there, in the piece, and he feels both a little sick and also so alive.
“holy fuck,” he whispers, shivering, and you laugh, deactivating your quirk, bringing him back to the real world. the sounds of the cafe flood in, replacing the smell of blood and spring fields with coffee and loose tea leaves. he shakes his head, eyes a little blown when they look at you.
your expression is playfully amused as you bring your sketchbook closer to your person, resting your head on the palm of your hand.
“sorry,” you offer, but you don’t sound very sorry at all, “should’ve asked before i used my quirk on you. not everyone likes that shit.”
the words are so nonchalant but you look like you’re poised to watch him get up and leave, never looking back. katsuki doesn’t think he could leave if he tried.
“nah,” his voice feels raw so he tries to clear it but the feeling doesn’t go away. “you’re good. just surprised me, ‘s all.”
your mouth parts in muted surprise and you tilt your head, appraising him like you’re seeing him for the first time. katsuki feels surprisingly bare as you study him, but he doesn’t drop his eye contact, despite the heavy pounding of his heart from your intensity.
the pair of you sit in silence like that for a moment or two longer before you break it, asking him if he wants something to drink. before he can tell you he doesn’t drink coffee though, you flag down the waiter, ask for a hot cup of tea (“darjeeling or oolong,” you ask the waiter, not even sparing katsuki another glance, “he doesn’t look like he fucks with green tea.” it’s true. he doesn’t. his heart does a stutter step in his chest.) and when it arrives to the table, katsuki asks you to move in with him.
you agree.
—
the move in process is so quick and easy that when it’s done, it feels like you’ve been living there for years.
your belongings integrate seamlessly into his own. your books about art history and watercolor technique find their way onto his bookshelves filled with classic japanese literature and hero history.
(he comes home one day to see you propped up on the couch with a thick book on the origin of quirks and heroism in japan that you stole borrowed from his collection. he just cocks his head at you when you meet his gaze and you shrug.
“i’m not japanese, i don’t know any of this shit,” you say in way of an explanation. “besides, this is important to you. i wanna learn.”
you turn back to your book like you didn’t just completely shake the foundation of katsuki’s world for a moment and he stumbles off to the kitchen, heat burning at the tips of his ears.)
your plants find their way on every windowsill and while, once upon a time, it would’ve made him think of kaito and that sick, curling jealousy would wrap around his chest and squeeze, now? it just makes him think of you.
(it helps you can’t really keep them alive so nearly every other week the two of you are replanting something new in the pots and vases katsuki makes in pottery class.)
your favorite foods join his in the refrigerator and the two of you take your meals together more often than not. katsuki cooks and you clean, either eating on the couch while watching a documentary or at the dining room table as you talk and talk and talk.
(the first time katsuki misses dinner, you wait up for him, even forgoing your own meal to eat with him when he returns at 2 in the morning.
“don’t do that shit again,” he grumbles when he finds out what you’ve done, his scarlet eyes piercing your own. you shrug, unafraid, tired eyes trailing lazily over his tank top clad form.
“don’t tell me what to do,” you retort after a moment, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of your lips, “i like eating with you.”
your honesty, unabashed and loud, always bowls him over and he has to take a sip of his ice water to feel steady again.)
the relationship between the two of you is easy, for once, and katsuki finds himself looking forward to coming home, to you and your witty comments, sharp intelligence, and your uncanny ability to see right through him.
he swears it must be a hidden quirk, the way you seem to just know — know what he wants and needs without even asking and your accuracy rate is pretty much unbeatable.
after a particularly bad mission where the property damage is unusually high and the civilian casualties match, the leading hero news journalist puts out a scathing piece about him, sending him into an emotional spiral.
you find him that afternoon, curled up in bed, staring at the window blankly. you crawl up in bed beside him and you don’t speak, don’t offer him coddling words of “everything’s gonna be okay,” or “you did the best you could,” because if that was katuski’s best, he doesn’t fucking deserve to be a hero. not at all.
but no, you don’t offer him empty words of placation. instead, you brush a lock of his hair off of his forehead and look at him with that all-seeing gaze, your expression neither soft nor hard, but understanding.
“you’re not gonna let that shit happen again, right?” you ask, tilting your head. katsuki shakes his head vehemently, the mere notion of the same amount of dead bodies on his watch sending a fire through his chest as he sits up.
“fuck no.”
“good. now come here, i painted something new and i need to see if i get ‘good job’ or ‘holy fuck that’s shitty’ eyebrows from you.”
and that’s that.
you’ve even given him a nickname and it inexplicably makes his skin feel tight, like he needs to tear it off and show you, like it’s a display of how you make him feel.
it’s a lazy sunday afternoon, one he’s required to take off by best jeanist, and he’s spent it next to you on the couch, listening to a few of your records while you paint a forest scene, a skittish doe front and center with rivulets of water streaming from beneath it.
occasionally, you’ll activate your quirk and katsuki can suddenly hear birds chirping and the creak of the wood before he’s back in your cramped flat, the sounds of city sounding below.
it’s jarring and yet, comforting, both your presence and the quirk, in a way that still doesn’t make sense to him yet.
“bambi, are you even listening to me?” the term of what he assumes is endearment startles him out of his thoughts and he eyes dart to yours, an amused expression on your your brow.
“who the fuck are you callin’ bambi?” in his shock, he can hardly conjure up the ability to sound pissed, confusion instead hijacking his words, making them come out soft and gruff.
“you, idiot,” you reply, like it makes all the sense in the world. “you’re like a deer to me. something in you is skittish, afraid and yet, you’re still so beautiful.”
what the fuck.
katsuki’s breath completely evaporates from his lungs and he feels like he’s going to pass out at your frank words. it doesn’t help that you don’t break eye contact or look embarrassed to have said something so, so… intimate.
he can’t even begin to parse through how to respond to something like that, but you know that too, flicking a little bit of paint water at him with the tip of your brush. he sees the olive branch for what it is and he grabs it with both hands, the annoyed sound rising from his throat on autopilot as you laugh, but your eyes are still so knowing.
he thinks about that day everyday after with sickening butterflies flapping around in his stomach and those only magnify when you choose to call him the new nickname every single chance you get.
katsuki would not dream of stopping you.
—
it’s about two months into you moving in with him and he’s going out drinking with the squad. he’s invited you about thirty times but every time you decline, citing that you’re behind on grading art projects and that show you were looking forward to is airing tonight.
(you’re a substitute art teacher at the local elementary school, a fact that genuinely shocked katsuki when he found out.
you’d laughed, wide and unapologetic at his reaction.
“i know i’ve got quite the potty mouth but i clean it up for the kids,” you say, eyes twinkling. “they kinda love me, i think, but it might just be the bob ross videos i put on for them every friday.”)
katsuki chooses not to push but he knows that he’ll end up cutting the night short, just so he can sprawl next to you on the couch and watch you paint.
you seem to know it too (how?? secret quirk, it must be) if the knowing look you give him isn’t enough as he goes to change.
when he returns to the living room, he’s clad in a nice black button down that’s unbuttoned enough to show off the strong planes of his chest and his thin gold chain, and a pair of black jeans that fit him and his tiny waist incredibly well.
katsuki knows he looks good in this outfit, but he finds himself uncharacteristically nervous as he stands in front of you, your eyes dragging down his body as slow as molasses, igniting the skin as though it was a physical touch.
your eyes meet his once again, molten and hot, and katsuki’s knees nearly buckle at the sight. he’s never seen you look like that - not at him, not at anyone, and he finds that he quite likes to be the center of your attention in this way.
“you clean up nicely, bambi,” you murmur, your voice a lower timber in comparison to your normal speech.
the blush spreads immediately to all visible parts of his body and he can fucking see you holding back a grin. “fuck off,” is all he can say before he spins on his heel, grabs his keys, and marches out the door.
it takes everything in him to continue walking, out and up to the train station and then to the bar, because all he wants to do is turn right back around, back to your home and back to that lava-like gaze you pinned him with earlier.
it’s you that’s racing around in his mind when he pushes the door open to the bar, but all thoughts come to a complete, grinding halt when he sees kirishima at their usual table, surrounded by all their friends and grinning like he’d never left.
he looks different - after all, it’s been about a year since katsuki had seen him last. his hair is longer and his roots are grown out, his skin has taken on such a warm glow and it, impossibly, seems like he’s gotten even bigger somehow.
it’s also impossible to miss the black band on his ring finger signaling a new engagement ring which he figures is what they’re meant to be celebrating tonight, eyes belatedly catching on the comically tiny “i’m engaged!” sash hanging around his chest.
the sight of kirishima sends the most heinous bolt of anxiety through katsuki and now he really just wants to call you to come get him and take him home, to make him forget all about his unrequited love. he moves backwards to do just that, but he’s already been spotted by kirishima himself.
fuck.
katsuki is frozen as kirishima’s happy expression falters when he meets his eyes, cycling through shock, disbelief, stark hurt and then utter relief.
he can see the way kiri’s mouth forms “katsuki” from a distance as he puts down his drink and moves towards him, his feet completely frozen until they’re standing face to face (face to chest, really) for the first time in months.
“hey,” kirishima says, hesitantly, breathlessly, as his hands flutter uselessly at his sides, like he wants to just pick katsuki up but is stopping himself. “can we, uh, can we go outside and talk?”
katsuki just nods because what else is supposed to do? and as they move out, he catches the worried gazes of their friends watching the pair of them from the table. denki and izuku, the latter of whom knows the most (everything) and the former who managed to figure most of it out on his own.
(“takes one to know one,” he’d said, bitterly when he’d confronted katsuki a few weeks ago about his unexplained mandatory leave all those months ago. katsuki was confused until kaminari flipped around his phone to reveal a photo of him and hanta pressed tightly together in an embrace that was strictly platonic and yet, horribly intimate.
katsuki’s lips drew together into a tight line as he settled against the brick wall kami was leaning against, trying to light the cigarette hanging loosely from his lips.
“you’re too good for plain face,” he says after a moment, attempting to channel his inner you, blunt and honest. “you’re gonna find someone better.” and just like all his thoughts as of recently, they’d flitted right back to you.
denki had watched his face carefully, cigarette unlit, a thoughtful look crossing his own expression.
“yeah,” he concedes, “i will, won’t i?”)
katsuki gives the pair of them a nod, holding up a hand to izuku who looks like he wants to follow them out of the bar, despite the pounding in his chest and the way he suddenly feels unsteady on his feet as they leave the building to step right back out into the cool, fall air.
kirishima’s stance is awkward and since neither of them smoke, they both just stand there, barely looking at each other and waiting for the other person to speak up first.
“fuckin’ hell- what’d you wanna talk about kirishima?” katsuki grits out, tired of the waiting game and suddenly, immediately, so exhausted. all he wants to do is be curled up beside you, with your all seeing eyes and gentle utterances of “bambi” in his ear.
the tact he’d lost in his haste to get this over with stings kirishima whose brows furrow in annoyance. “what do i want to talk about? i haven’t seen you in a year, bakugou, not since i moved out and you completely cut me off with no explanation whatsoever. i want to know why. what - what did i do wrong?”
his voice breaks on the last word and it sounds so sad, so uncharacteristically eijirou, that katsuki flinches, finally looking over at kirishima to see a broken, pleading man who lost his best friend for nothing more than silly, stupid feelings.
at once, katsuki feels all the fucking idiot asshole he is and it’s staggering how much that thought makes him feel like shit. he could’ve reached out, he could’ve, but he was so worried that he wouldn’t have been able to keep it together, spending time with kiri, and as time passed, the issue became that so much time had passed and he had no idea how to navigate this all over again.
he runs a hand over his face, leaning against the brick facade of the bar. “fuck,” he whispers, gravel crunching underfoot as kiri steps closer.
“i - i miss you, kats,” kiri’s voice comes out quiet and thick, “i got engaged and all i wanted to do was call you, but you weren’t there, you weren’t speaking to me and i-“ he takes a shuddering breath and katsuki’s eyes fill with tears.
“i was in love with you.”
the sounds of the street fade out as katsuki finally turns to look at kirishima, the tears falling down his cheeks.
“wha- bakugou, what?”
“i was in love with you and i couldn’t fuckin’ - i couldn’t do it. not to myself, not to you.”
kirishima face is drawn, pale and mouth gaping. his mouth closes, then opens again, then snaps shut, his head shaking in disbelief.
“why didn’t you - fuck - why didn’t you ever say anything, man?”
katsuki scoffs, the sound wet with grief. “are you shittin’ me? why the hell would i do that?”
kiri shrugs, long, dark lashes sweeping his cheekbones, leaving tiny wet marks. a year ago, the sight would’ve filled katsuki with rabid butterflies, but now it remains just an observation, one made passively and without thinking.
“i should’ve told you somethin’, i fuckin’ know that now, but i was - i was scared. scared of you hating me, scared of losing you. but i went and fucked that one up anyway, so,” katsuki laughs, self deprecating, and kirishima shakes his head vehemently, grabbing him by the shoulder and pulling him into a tight hug.
katsuki’s throat is tight as he gives into the embrace, burying his face into kirishima’s shoulder.
“you haven’t lost me, kats, and you never will,” kirishima whispers, pulling apart far enough to press his forehead to katsuki’s, red eyes meeting red. “i mean, who else is gonna be my best man?”
katsuki’s eyes widen and he takes a step back. “don’t fuck with me.”
kirishima shakes his head, a wet laugh escaping his lips. “not fucking with you bro. you’re my best friend. i want you there beside me on the happiest day of my life.”
after everything, after the year of no contact and the absolutely shitty way katsuki treated him, kirishima still wants katsuki by his side?
he’s honored, he’s out of his depth, he’s fucking nauseous, and he really wants to go home and tell you.
“i met someone,” he blurts and kirishima looks startled at the change of subject, but takes it in stride, a smile tugging at his face.
“that’s so great, dude, congrats! what’s their name?”
katsuki breathes it out and when he does, he realizes something, the force of it hitting him like a steel beam to the head.
“i think i’m in love with them.”
kirishima blinks, taking in katsuki’s tense form. he looks like he’s about to run away.
“i’m so happy for you, kats. really, i am,” kiri says, before being taken off guard yet again by the hug katsuki initiates.
“of course i’ll be your best man, shitty hair. i fuckin’ missed you too,” he murmurs and he hears kirishima sniffle. “i gotta go but text me and we’ll get lunch tomorrow or some shit, okay? i’ve got a lot to catch up on.”
he pulls away to see eijirou’s big wet eyes stare down at him with unabashed care and love, and katsuki feels his heart swell.
he got his best friend back and now it’s time to get you.
kirishima agrees to the meetup wholeheartedly and lets katsuki go with a hearty pat on the back and a shouted “good luck!” over the sound of the rain that started up during the last moments of conversation before going back inside the bar.
katsuki considers blasting his way to you, but he knows the optics would be incredibly unfavorable and his pr department would have his head, so he races to the train station instead and hops aboard, his mind racing with thoughts of you.
his hair is plastered to his forehead with rain by the time he gets to his apartment building and the button up is molded to his body like a second skin. he’s uncomfortable, of course, but he hardly pays it any mind because before he knows it, he’s unlocking and pushing open the door to your shared flat.
he’s home.
you startle from your place upside down on the couch, your paints and sketchbook cluttering the coffee table at the side while the tv plays an ancient looking cooking show quietly.
katsuki is bowled over by the sight, the weight of what he now knows as love sending him stumbling a little on his feet. he has to hold onto the doorjamb to keep his footing.
you sit up, observing, and you tilt your head. “you’re back early,” you comment, curiosity lacing your words.
he nods, not trusting his voice as finally steps past the threshold, kicking off his shoes and putting on a pair of hideous hawks themed slippers that you’d bought for him on your own birthday.
you hum thoughtfully before standing and disappearing down the hallway, katsuki’s eyes glued to you as you go. he can hear the sounds of you rummaging around in the bathroom, his feet frozen to the floor when you return, a fluffy towel in hand.
“you should shower, of course,” you say with a grin, opening up the towel and draping it over his head to dry it before moving on to the rest of his sopping body. “but i figured i’d keep you from dripping all over that ugly rug you’re obsessed with.”
katsuki doesn’t respond, can’t, and you don’t push or question, instead diligently wiping him down until he’s marginally more dry, eg, not actively dripping on the hardwood.
you move to go dispose of the towel and katsuki’s hand shoots out, not of his own volition, to hold you in place. it’s here he notices how close you’ve been standing to him, your breath wafting over his collarbones.
“bambi?” you question, unafraid of him, just lightly confused, but you don’t move away from him, somehow picking up his need for closeness without him saying anything, and he snaps.
“i love you,” he whispers, the explosion in his chest coming out in just those three gruff words, his carmine eyes boring into your own with an intensity you match.
a small smile spreads over your lips and your eyes light up, joy thrumming over your skin. “i love you too, katsuki.”
it’s perfect and katsuki can’t stop himself from cupping your face and pressing your lips together.
the kiss is gentle and chaste, your hands dropping the towel, coming up to rest on his forearms and holding him in place as you move your lips softly against his own.
katsuki feels like the rest of the world could implode right now, could be on fire or flooding or being overrun by villains and none of it would matter, not a single fucking thing because you’re in his arms and you’re kissing him back and you love him.
these thoughts ignite a hunger in him, a flame stoking in his belly, and he pushes further into the kiss, his hands sliding from their place on your face. one cups the back of your neck while the other slides down your back, pressing you firmly against the front of his body.
he’s almost giddy, having you like this, and he’s sure you can feel it because you’re smiling into the kiss like this is the happiest day of your life.
he thinks it’s his.
you continue trading kisses like this in your foyer, but it only escalates when your tongue flickers across katsuki’s bottom lip and you sigh softly, back arching against him.
katsuki has to break apart from you so he doesn’t consume you in that moment, but you don’t go far (you never do), your foreheads pressed together while you breathe in each others air.
“fuckin’ hell,” he chokes out and you laugh. “can i please - fuck - i need you.”
his honesty shuts you up quick and you nod, biting your lip. “take me to bed, bambi.”
and that he does.
katsuki’s hand finds yours and he pulls you towards his bedroom — you’ve been in there countless times, to watch movies, to nap, to read with one another, but of course, it was never like this.
the tension is thick but it’s not uncomfortable at all. you walk over to his bed and plop down on it like you’ve been in this situation a thousand times. the action soothes any residual anxiety katsuki might’ve had as he walks over to you, your heated gaze tracking his movements the entire time.
“take this shit off,” he grumbles, tugging at the garish all might crewneck covering your abdomen and you swat his hand away with an amused look.
he can feel his pout forming at your smile, but you just shake your head. “don’t tell me what to do, bambi,” but still, you raise grip the bottom of the thick fabric, lifting it up and over your head before letting it drop to the ground, leaving you bare.
or almost bare, if not for the objectively hideous, brightly colored, thin, cheap and lacey dynamight themed underwear covering your body.
“what the fuck is this?” katsuki doesn’t mean for his question to come out so reverent, but seeing you clad in his colors sends a bolt of heat down his spine so strong, he’s quite literally never been harder in his life.
you don’t seem to notice (but you always do), tilting your head at him with a grin playing on your lips. “they were on sale. didn’t think you’d ever see them.”
katsuki’s brows furrow at that, his hands tightening from their place on your hips. “who the fuck else was going to?”
you shake your head, like there’s something he isn’t getting. “no one. it’s always been you.”
“fuckin’-“ katsuki surges for you, claiming your lips with his with an urgency that had previously been lost. you respond in kind and this time, you’re letting out all these quiet gasps and sighs, writhing beneath him. he has to see you fall apart.
he reluctantly detaches his face from yours, kissing down your neck and sucking marks into the thin skin there, one of your hands sliding up to tangle into his hair, keeping him close.
a moan escapes him at the feeling of your fingers on his scalp, nearly getting lost in the mindless action, but he has to keep going. he makes it to your chest, laving his tongue over one of your nipples, flicking the hardened bud with the tip.
“f-fuck, bambi,” you outright moan and katsuki has to grind down against the mattress, his free hand sliding to pinch and pull at your other nipple.
your body can’t figure out whether to arch towards or away from his ministrations, which katsuki takes special delight in. you’re always so in control of yourself, even when you’re not, so it’s beyond rewarding to be responsible for your destruction.
“bambi - fuck - ‘suki, fuck me,” you groan and katsuki’s eyes roll back before he pulls off your nipple with a pop, his lips red and slick.
“nah.”
“nah?” you parrot, leaning up on your elbows with the closest thing he’s seen to annoyance directed at him written all over your face.
“nah. ‘m gonna make you come first.” katsuki grins, feral, and you shudder.
“get to it then, hero.” the moniker, while meant to be sarcastic and biting, just makes katsuki moan, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your (dynamight !!) underwear and tossing them to the floor.
he leans in, propping up one of your legs over his shoulder to bury his nose in the crease between hip and thigh, inhaling deeply. you smell sharp and tangy and so you that he couldn’t stop himself from taking a lick, entrance to clit, if he tried.
you sigh at that first touch of his wet muscle, melting in the bed while one hand remains buried in his hair and the other splays above your head. you watch him move with that intense look and you don’t look away so he doesn’t either.
he doesn’t look away as he slurps loudly at your entrance, tasting the wetness that’s gathered there with a pleased hum. doesn’t look away as he swirls his tongue around your clit, pulling a sharp gasp from your chest. doesn’t look away as he picks up pace, swirling, flicking and sucking until you’re chanting his name and “bambi,” your body tensing up as you buck your hips up into his face. doesn’t look away when you cum hard, soaking his lips and chin to which he eagerly groans, slurping up all you have to offer.
you pull him up to stop him from licking you through your aftershocks, kissing him hard once he gets to eye level.
“please,” you beg, eyes wide and urgent. who is he to deny you or himself?
katsuki stands and shucks off his boxers in record time, wrapping a hand around his cock that’s hard and leaking, the tip bright red.
your eyes eat him up hungrily, lingering on the way his precum spills over his knuckles with every slow stroke.
“i’m gonna suck your pretty cock tomorrow, preferably before breakfast,” you comment breathlessly. katsuki has to wrap his fingers around the base of his cock to keep himself from coming in that moment, taking a deep breath and glaring at you when you giggle.
“condom?” you shake your head, leaning back and spreading your legs to show off the wet mess he’s made of you.
“‘m clean and i’m in love with you. fuck me. now.” you can’t even sound commanding, not with the whine lying beneath your words, giving away how bad you want him. how bad you want this.
if the way katsuki’s cock legitimately jumped at your words is anything to go by, he obviously feels the same.
“goddamit, can’t fuckin’ say shit like that to me, jesus,” he rambles, crawling back onto the bed and notching the fat head of his dick into your entrance before leaning down to kiss you, open mouthed and messy.
he pushes into you when your tongue is halfway down his throat and he nearly chokes on it. you’re so soft and wet and velvety — he’s gonna cum so fucking fast, holy shit.
of course, you know it too, know him like the back of your hand because you squeeze even tighter around him and slide your hand down between your bodies to rub frantically at your clit.
“you - oh, god, you feel so fucking good bambi, fucking me so well, always taking care of me,” your words slur together as your eyes roll back, his hips slamming into yours at a quick pace.
he wants you to cum first, wants it more than anything, but the dirty talk coupled with the way you feel clenching around him has him shooting off faster than he expected, a low, long whine leaving him.
his hips stutter against yours and fireworks go off behind his eyelids. it feels like he’s coming forever as he humps into you and that feeling is only prolonged by you coming around him, your cunt clenching so tightly, you force him out, his spend spreading all over your mons and pelvis with a choked groan.
after another long moment, he slumps against you, exhausted and happier than he’s ever been.
you hum contentedly, wrapping your arm around him to pull him half on top of you, your body succumbing to the tiredness that’s so quickly overtaken you.
“i love you, katsuki,” you whisper, the phrase thick with sleep and emotion. katsuki feels burning at the backs of his eyes so he buries his face in the crook of your neck to hide, kissing your shoulder when the words don’t come.
you know, though. you always do.
—
“fuck, bambi, we’re gonna be late!” you screech from your (now) shared room, the sound muffled from where your head is buried in the closet.
by the door, katsuki is trying (and failing) to tie his bow tie, the red fabric remaining uncooperative in his hands. he groans in frustration, raising a hand to run it through his hair but stopping short when he remembers how you painstakingly fixed it for him a few hours ago.
“i know! it’s this stupid fuckin’ tie!” he shouts back, staring at himself in the little mirror you purchased, smiling a little despite himself when he remembers that trip to the home decor store with you, picking out new items that represent the both of you for your apartment.
speak of the devil, you step up behind him, looking gorgeous in a red, floor length dress, wrapping your arms around his waist.
“you look really good bambi,” you grin, fingers dragging down his abdomen to rest on his waistband, but his hands stop your downward motion while he gives you a halfhearted glare through the reflection.
“don’t start that shit,” katsuki turns around in your hold to face you, your hands immediately finding his undone tie. you work efficiently, face so scrunched up and focused that katsuki can only lift your face to press a kiss to your lips.
you melt, kissing him back easily and when you pull away, his lips are tinged with your lip products, marked by you. “you have a little something…” you trail off, wiping it away, not realizing how he stares at you like you’re the sun and he has no other choice but to revolve around you.
“marry me,” katsuki blurts, heat burning at the tips of his ears after a moment of you looking at him in utter disbelief.
he worries for a split second that you’re going to say no, but then your face splits into the most blinding smile he’s ever seen.
“are you proposing to me right now, bakugou katsuki?” you tease, fingers toying with the tie around his neck.
he nods, his hands finding your waist as he pulls you closer to him. “so what if i am?”
you laugh and nod, tears filling your lash line as the lighthearted facade drops to reveal you, earnest and honest and so so in love with him.
katsuki has no idea how he got so lucky, what he did in a past life to have you in his life and agreeing to be with him, in his life forever.
“of fucking course, i’ll marry you,” you say, grabbing his face and kissing him hard. “and i want nothing more than to make love to you on our brand new ikea sofa, but if we’re late to kiri’s wedding, he’s gonna kill me and make you watch.”
even the empty threat you make through your happy tears centers you in katsuki’s life, like you know that you are the center of his world, of his entire universe. you always know, know him better than he knows himself and there isn’t anyone on this whole earth who he’d rather be with than you.
he doesn’t tell you any of this though, blinking back tears instead and agreeing with a laugh, before finally ushering the pair of you out the door.
the thing is, katsuki doesn’t have to tell you.
you already know.
#bakugou katsuki#mha bakugou#bnha bakugou#bakugou x reader#bakugou katsuki x reader#bnha#katsuki x reader#katsuki x you#bakugou x you#kirishima eijirou#kirishima x bakugou#bnha smut#bnha angst#hurt/comfort#[ baby daddy : katsuki ]#[ instant nut : n/sft ]#[ i <3 writing : my works ]
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idk where to put requests bc i barely ask for stuff on here but basically my idea was this. neteyam x human reader that is hella funny. friends to lovers type thing where he feels his responsibilities and stress slip away when hes with them. kiss kiss love confession type thing. gn or fem would be cool mookie
neteyam x human!reader imagine
1.7k words
warnings- sfw, mutual pinning, soft fluff, a little angst ? love confessions
also while writing this it was inspired by in love with you by erykah badu and boogie nights/all night by erykah badu
hanging out with the sullys is always interesting, from going on ikran rides to sneaking on missions. when lo'ak says that you should all go on a ride right before eclipse, neteyam is fast to object.
"come on bro, you know dad is going to slaughter us if we are out at eclipse, lets just go tomorrow."
spider huffs before jumping on lo'aks ikran. god, my brother is such an ass, sometimes i just want to slap him so hard he can't feel his face for a week. i give neteyam a look, us both understanding that the only way to keep our stupid brothers in line is to follow them and keep them safe. he helps me up onto his ikran and we take off after spider and lo'ak, soaring in the calm sunset.
after flying for 10 minutes, spider and lo'ak land somewhere in the floating mountains, neteyam and i follow after them. when we touch down, neteyam picks me up and sets me down; something he loves to do to remind me he’s 3 feet taller than i am.
“fucking skxawng”, i mutter under my breath. before i can even turn around to shoot him a dirty look, he picks me up by my waist with one hand, laughing at me kicking him.
“what was that you just said?” he asks, still laughing at me.
i shoot him the dirtiest glare possible, “ i called you a fucking skxawng, skxawng. now put me down before i rip your braid out.”
neteyam laughs and sets me down, walking away like i huff. we both eventually walk over to spider and lo’ak, sitting beside them and admiring the forrest. we all talk and joke around, laughing about stupid jokes and talking about rumors. we eventually get on the topic of crushes, me teasing spider about his growing crush on kiri, neteyam rolling his eyes like lo’ak complains.
“cuz, come on, that’s my sister i don’t need to know that you want to bang her bro. how would that even work anyways, a human and a na’vi??”
i sigh to myself, knowing what lo’ak says about a human being with a na’vi is true and that neteyam and i will probably never grow to something more than just being friends.
little do i know, neteyam is having the same thoughts, wanting and wishing we could be more than friends, when in reality he knows that kissing me is probably off the table because of my exopack.
the conversation between all of us dissipates as we quiet down, all thinking about different things. i stand up and brush my legs off before saying we should head back so we can be home before eclipse. neteyam agrees while our brothers sigh with “do we have too” and “just like 5 more minutes i swear.”
we eventually all start walking back to the ikrans, lo’ak and spider racing each other. neteyam and i trail behind, talking and shoving each other and laughing. i look at him, the sunset shining on his beautiful blue skin and as it gets darker outside his freckles start shining. i realize that my feelings are futile, but it’s hard to be around the most kind, loyal, protective, beautiful man and not get attached.
i sigh, realizing i have gotten caught up in my own head again. when i look back up at him i see him with a sad smile.
“what’s wrong?” i ask.
“it’s nothing.”
“well it’s got to be something, you’re not usually sad for no reason.”
he sighs and says, “really, it’s nothing. we should try to walk faster so we get back before eclipse.”
he starts walking faster towards the ikrans, making me jog to catch up. i grab his hand and stop walking.
“neteyam, please, don’t keep stuff from me. we are best friends, and when we first became friends you promised to always tell me what’s bothering you.”
“stop digging y/n, i don’t want to talk about it right now. i just want us to laugh and talk like usual right now.”
“just tell me so that i can help you and we can go back to normal.”
“i don’t want to talk about it.”
“nete please-“
“fucking stop y/n, i’m not going going to talk about this with you.”
i stand there shocked, not used to him getting angry. he walks off and i follow after him, confused as to why he’s so mad. i know i shouldn’t have pushed but it’s not like him to be so sad.
when we get back to the ikrans lo’ak and spider immediately notice that something’s off, seeing the look on neteyam’s face. when spider and lo’ak look to me i shrug and shake my head. it’s awkwardly silent before neteyam clears his throat and says, “ y/n, how about you ride with lo’ak and spider rides with me tonight.”
lo’ak and spider both whip around and look to me, about to complain about how it’s never been this way when i just shake my head. spider raises an eyebrow at me but walks over to neteyams ikran anyways. i walk to lo’aks, waiting for his to grab me by the waist to help me but he doesn’t. i climb up, and go to hold onto his waist, but i stop and hold his shoulders.
neteyam and spider take off first, lo’ak and i soon after. we sit in science for a little before he asks, “so what happened?”
i sigh, “he just seemed off. he’s been more distant and sad lately, but i guess that’s just a journey of him becoming a man.”
“yeah well he has been stressed out about the whole ‘becoming a man and choosing a mate’ thing. it’s not like there’s not 20 girls that would die for him to stick it in them,” he snickers.
“ew come on lo’ak that’s disgusting.”
“i mean, i know who im choosing when i become a man.”
“the hottest girl who wants me, duh cuz. i mean that’s skxawng has always been picky, but now it seems like he’s trying to always want what he can’t have.”
“what do you mean?”
“come on cuz, you can’t be that blind. did you notice when he started getting all whiny earlier?”
“no? i mean after we talked i guess?”
“and we talked about what...”
i pause, trying to remember.
“ummmmm we talked about how you wanted to bang that girl we saw that was healing you and neteyam’s dumb asses, we talked about how spider is never going to find a na’vi that wants his tiny ass but let’s be honest, him and kiri totally have something going-“
“no you fucking skxawng we talked about humans and na’vi, then neteyam got all whiny and shit.”
i pause, “so?”
“so who is the human that neteyam spends all his time with?”
i stop.
“you’re saying that neteyam likes me?”
“YES THATS WHAT IVE BEEN SAYING AND YOU CLEARLY LIKE HIM TOO”
i blush and laugh, “ lo’ak, there’s no way he likes me. you said it yourself, he was like 30 hot girls lined up for him.”
“he totally does like you-“
“he totally doesn’t-“
“but you like him anyways. that’s the point, it doesn’t matter if you believe me or not because we all know that you two like each other.”
we ride back home in silence, i think about what he has said. could it neteyam actually like me too? is that why he didn’t want to talk about it with me? i wonder what would even happen if he did, it’s not like we could mate.
when we land at home, i get of lo’aks ikran and thank him for telling me. i walk to my tent and lay down, thinking about how this could change everything. i should probably talk to neteyam about it instead of just mulling it over by myself.
i decide to get up and go talk to him, even though i’m scared that lo’ak could be wrong. i mean, what if i talk to him about it and tell him i like him when he doesn’t even like me back? i stand by his family’s tent, not sure if i should go it on not.
while i’m standing there thinking, i don’t notice that neteyam walked up behind me. he taps me on the shoulder and when i turn around i see that it’s him.
“hi.”
“hey?” he says, nervously scratching his neck.
“i think we need to talk, i was about to go in and ask for you.”
“i told you i don’t want to talk about it-“
“lo’ak told me you have a crush on me.”
he stares down at me with wide eyes. i can see his cheeks turn purple as he blushes and he opens and closes his mouth, trying to say something. i grab his hand, my small one grabbing on to 3 of his fingers. i walk us over to my tent, thankfully lo’ak must have gotten spider to stay away for a little.
when we go inside my tent, neteyam looks so nervous that you would think i’m trying to shoot him. he starts rambling, “ listen i don’t know why lo’ak would tell you that because i don’t have a crush on you i mean, you’re my bestfriend that would be kind of weird right? i mean not to say that you’re not funny or pretty, because you definitely are but even if i did like you, i mean how would that even work, i’m na’vi and you’re human and we probably would even be able to kiss because of your exopack and-“
i cut him off, “neteyam, i like you.”
“you do?”
“yeah, i do.”
“but why me, why not lo’ak? or anyone else?”
i look at the floor, “because i don’t want lo’ak. i want you. i want your smile and how funny you are. i want to talk to you and go on your ikran with you. you understand me like no one else. i see you nete.”
i feel a his hand on my chin, guiding me to look up at him. he hugs me, my forehead on his chest.
“i see you y/n,” he says, kissing the top of my head.
#na’vi oc#jake sully x neytiri#lo’ak x reader#neteyam x oc#neteyam x you#jake sully x you#jake sully x oc#lo’ak fanart#neteyam smut#tsireya x lo’ak#neteyam imagine#neteyam sully#neteyam#neteyam x reader#neteyam x y/n#avatar way of water#avatar 2009#avatar#avatar x you#avatar x reader#jake sully imagine#jake sully#jake sully smut#lo’ak imagine#lo’ak#lo’ak sully#lo'ak x reader#neteyam x aonung#lo’ak x y/n#jake sully x y/n
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ENCHANTED — JAMIE DRYSDALE
jamie drysdale x hughes!reader
part of the Speak Now Fic List
summary: in which y/n meets Jamie on a boring night and becomes completely enchanted with him
notes: this is my first time ever writing for Jamie, so bear with me! (4k words, precisely.)
this wasn’t where i wanted to spend my night.
after two years in Anaheim, i thought i had successfully avoided my brother’s best friend dragging me to parties or nights out.
i always had an excuse handy.
“sorry Trevor, i have a big test. i gotta study.”
“i have major cramps, sorry Trev.”
“i have study group, sorry!”
“sorry Trevor, i have a shift at the campus store!”
that last one came back to bite me in the ass after Trevor had mentioned it to Jack and my loving brother outed me on the fact that i don’t even have a job.
that’s what got me here. finally conned into being Trevor’s friendly plus-one to John Gibson’s end-of-the-season party. despite the fact that i was telling the truth this time when i said i had to study for finals.
Trevor had pulled some pouty puppy face over facetime, reminded me that i lied to him last time, and even pulled out the “i just wanna hang out with you, mini Hughes. i never get to see you, even though we live in the same city. you may as well be as far away as Jack.”
and just like that, i was putty in his hands. i agreed to accompany, only on the agreement that he wouldn’t leave me alone when we got here. and he hasn’t, so far.
he stands next to me, an arm leant against my shoulder, as he chats with Troy Terry.
“this is y/n Hughes, my itty bitty best buddy!” his speech is slightly slurred, already significantly buzzed, but not quite drunk yet.
“you gotta stop calling me that.” i roll my eyes. “i’m not fourteen and 5’3 anymore.”
“but you’re still not my height,” he laughs, ruffling my hair. “so it stays.”
i send Troy a pleading glance and his head tips back in laughter.
“so, you’re Quinn, Jack, and Luke’s sister?” Troy asks.
“yeah, i’m between Jack and Luke.” i explain and he nods, making a comment about how hard it must be being the only girl.
“where’s Jamie, Trevor? thought he would’ve driven with you.” Troy questions, and i’m grateful for the change of subject.
i love my brothers, but they’re all anyone ever wants to talk about. i’m my own person, my life doesn’t revolve around them.
“nah, i picked this one up, so Jamie’s driving on his own. he should be here soon though.”
i zone out as the conversation shifts to their off-season plans, forcing a laugh whenever Trevor tells a horrendous joke, and faking a smile when he mentions that he’ll be coming to my brothers lake house.
but eventually i get bored, instead turning my head to look around the crowded house.
i recognize a few people from the Ducks games i’ve watched or attended. John Gibson, the goalie. Mason McTavish, the young center.
but then i see him.
dark hair and blue eyes contrast against pale skin. even from across the room, i can see the freckles that litter across his nose and cheekbones. his gaze shifts around the room, and when it settles on where i am, he seems to let out a relieved sigh, making his way over.
my body tenses, my posture becoming straighter, and as i push my shoulders back slightly, i accidentally knock Trevor’s arm off. but he doesn’t seem to notice, a large goofy smile breaking out across his face as he cheers.
“Jimbo! you made it!”
a blush rises to the gorgeous boy’s cheeks, huffing out an awkward chuckle. it’s beautiful. he’s beautiful.
“Jimmy, this is y/n. y/n, this is Jamie!” Trevor introduces us and realization settles over me.
this is Jamie? Trevor’s best friend and roommate in California?
he reminds me of a disney prince. his eyes meet mine, wonder shining amongst them.
“have we met? you seem kinda familiar.” his voice reminds me of daylight breaking amongst gray clouds. warmth and security flowing throughout my body.
but before i can respond, Trevor butts his way in again.
“i’m gonna go get another drink! i’ll be back.”
Trevor pushes his way between us, heading off toward the kitchen, and Jamie laughs again.
“so, how drunk is he?” Jamie questions, his head nodding towards where Trevor disappeared.
“well, about ten minutes ago, he was singing me the mighty ducks theme song.” i explain and Jamie nods in understanding.
“got it. so, he’s sober.” he remarks and i let out a giggle.
“yeah,” i drag out. “there really isn’t much of a difference between sober and drunk Trevor, is there?”
“not when he’s as wild drunk as he is sober.” Jamie jokes, and i hum in agreement.
“so, you’re the infamous Jamie Drysdale?” i raise an eyebrow, watching as his cheeks turn pink.
“oh god, he talks about me?” he laughs and i nod.
“you’ve been mentioned a few times.” i confirm. “all good things, of course.”
Jamie and i stand in that same spot almost all night, eventually moving to the couch when we realize that Trevor isn’t coming back.
“so, you’re a student at… Chapman?” he gathers.
“yeah, i’m about to end my junior year. one year online during the pandemic, and two years on campus here.” i explain and he nods his head in understanding, taking a sip of his soda.
“what’s your major?”
“broadcast journalism. my main focus is sports entertainment.” he nods again before his nose scrunches in confusion, his eyebrows pulling together.
“and you’ve known Trevor this whole time?” i hum out in agreement. “how have we never met until now?”
“okay, don’t judge me.” i preface, making him chuckle, but agree. “i’m not much of a party person. i prefer to stay in my dorm and watch movies. so, i always make up an excuse to get out of coming to parties with Trevor.”
his head tips back in laughter, causing a rush of heat to spread across my face, but at the sight of my blush, he shakes his head.
“wait, no! no! i’m not laughing at you, i swear! i’m laughing because i do the same thing.” his words are spoken through broken laughter, my teeth sinking into my bottom lip to hold back a smile.
“really? you’re his roommate!”
“that doesn’t mean i love partying!” he defends himself. “i’m more introverted. quieter than Z. a lot of people wonder why we’re friends, but, we balance each other out.”
he shrugs and i tilt my head, squinting my eyes.
“hm, yeah, i could see that.” i admit. “my best friend and i are the same way. she’s a lot like Trevor.”
as the words leave my mouth, my face drops; my eyes wide, my lips parted in horror.
“oh god, she’s like Trevor.” Jamie’s entire body folds in laughter, his face turning bright red as his hand lands on my knee, sending sparks up my leg.
he looks so carefree and happy, i can’t help but sneak a picture.
“so, neither of us like parties,” Jamie starts, once he’s finally calmed down from laughing at my horror. “and Trevor has left us, and i doubt he’s coming back.”
“definitely not. that boy has the attention span of a goldfish.” i joke and Jamie agrees.
“so why don’t we get out of here?” he asks. my lips part, blood rushing to my cheeks, but before i can speak, he cuts me off. “wait, not like that. that came out wrong! what i mean is, i could really go for some food. and maybe getting out of this crowded house.”
“oh- yeah.” i nod, sliding my phone in my pocket. “yeah, that sounds great.”
“great!” he rises from the couch, holding his hand out for me to take; and i do, slipping my hand into his larger, more calloused hold.
he pulls me up from the couch, his grip never faltering as we exit the house with an irish goodbye and head to his car.
he opens the passenger door, finally dropping my hand to allow me to slide in, but i catch his hand flex in my peripheral vision and despite my now cold hand, my heart races in my chest. did i just get my own pride and prejudice moment?
“do you have any special requests on where to eat?” he questions as he starts the car.
“um, no.” i shrug. “anywhere with chicken tenders is fine with me.”
he laughs. “then i know just the place.”
the ride is made in a comfortable silence after that. nothing but the sound of country music flowing through the radio.
Jamie pulls into a diner parking lot, mostly empty due to the late timing, and we head inside, taking a seat in a booth towards the middle of the establishment.
“your chicken tenders, await.” he grins, pointing out the item on the laminated menu, slightly sticky with syrup.
“hey, don’t knock the chicken tenders. they’re an important food group.” i stick out my lip in a fake pout and he chuckles.
“yeah, if you’re ten.”
“oh yeah, well what are you gonna get? a burger?” he opens his mouth to defend himself, but as i raise a brow, he chooses to stay silent, letting out a ‘hmph’
“that’s what i thought.” i grin in triumph as a waitress stops by to take our orders. as soon as she leaves, my phone buzzes in my pocket and i slide it out, huffing a laugh at the text.
***
from: quack-quack 🦆
yo, where’d u go?! u disappeared on me!
***
i show the text to Jamie, who laughs as well.
“guess he did try to come back to us.” he shrugs.
“yeah, three hours after he left us!” i giggle, holding my phone up to take a picture of Jamie, who smiles, his arms crossed on the table.
the photo is the only response Trevor gets, but barely 5 minutes later, interrupting Jamie and i’s heavy debate on which Star Wars movie is the best, i get another text.
***
from: jacky ♥️🖤
why is Z telling me you’re out with a guy? at 11:30 at night?? y/n, go home. now. it’s unsafe and i can’t believe you’re being so reckless. i’ll deal with this in the morning.
***
i roll my eyes, choosing to ignore the text and slip my phone back into my pocket.
“Trevor again?” Jamie asks but i shake my head.
“no, worse. my brother.” i explain as our food arrives.
i smile over at the waitress, muttering out a ‘thank you’ before she retreats.
“you have a brother?” he speaks up as i take a bite of chicken and i nod.
“i have three.” i don’t give him any more information than that. if he’s unaware of who my brothers are, then i don’t want to tell him. not tonight, at least.
“oh damn.” he blows out a breath, his eyes widening. “i have a brother, but i can’t imagine having three. and being the only girl?”
“yeah, they’re pretty protective.”
“do they live here?” he asks, and it feels nice; being able to talk about my family without someone already knowing who they are and pretty much everything about them.
“no.” i shake my head. “one lives in canada, the other two on the east coast.”
he ask me more questions about my family, and i try to keep my answers as vague as possible, while still not being too vague that he thinks i don’t wanna talk about them.
for every question i answer, he gives me a fact about his own family, until the conversation shifts to jobs.
“well obviously you know i’m a hockey player.” he says as i push my now-empty plate away. “do you work?”
“not right now.” i tell him. “i’m focused on school at the moment. i got a full-ride scholarship, because of my grades, so i don’t have to pay for my tuition, and my parents pay for my dorm.
“but because they don’t have to pay for my tuition, they send me a monthly allowance from my college fund so that i don’t have to work and i can focus on my schooling.”
he follows along as i explain, maintaining eye contact.
“that’s cool. it’s good, that you get to focus on your grades.” i yawn as he finishes speaking, attempting to cover it, but he catches on. “oh shit, are you tired?”
“i- just a little bit.” i wince, hoping he doesn’t think i found him boring or anything.
“i can drop you off at your dorm, if you want. i know Trevor picked you up”
i nod as he motions over to the waitress for the check.
“yes, please.” i give in. “i usually wouldn’t mind staying out all night with you, because i’m having a really good time, and you’re so funny and sweet. but, i need to sleep so i can study tomorrow. i have a final on Monday.”
Jamie pays, waving off my offer to pay for my own food, and we exit the diner, climbing back into his car.
the time on his dashboard reads one am and i internally cringe at the idea of having to sneak back into my dorm.
the drive is mainly quiet as i give him directions to my dorm, and i sigh as we pull up in front of the building.
“i had a lot of fun.” i turn to him with a small smile as i unbuckle my seatbelt. “thanks for making tonight a lot less boring, Jamie.”
“yeah, me too.” he nods, “thanks for saving me from drunk Trevor.”
i’m grateful for the darkness of the night sky as he leans over and presses a kiss to my cheek, thanking whatever higher being that he’s unable to see the pink twinge of my cheekbones.
i bid him a goodnight as i exit the car, looking back as i reach the door to the dormitory building, to see him waiting for me to get inside before he leaves. i wave another goodbye, him doing the same as i disappear into the brick building.
i’m blushing, grinning like a lovesick fool the entire elevator ride up to my dorm.
i wonder if he knows how enchanted i was by him. one night together and i’m already thinking about how i would introduce him to my family.
i tiptoe into the dorm room, quiet to try and avoid waking my best friend slash roommate, but my efforts go unappreciated as she’s already sitting up in her bed, waiting for me.
“how was it? were you miserable without me?” Brandy asks from her spot propped against her mountain of pillows. “i bet you were, right?”
but i’m quiet; my mind still stuck on Jamie. he was amazing. so kind, and funny. and he actually asked about me. he genuinely wanted to know about my family and friends, what i liked to do in my free time, and what i wanted to do with my degree.
“oh- i know that look.” Brandy squeals, hopping off her bed and disregarding my half-nakedness in the midst of getting changed into my pajamas, pulling me in for a hug. “who is he? what’s his name? where’s he from? does he have a hot brother?”
“Trevor’s roommate, Jamie, Canada, and he has a brother but i don’t know what he looks like.” i spill, my cheeks red and a wide grin on my lips.
you’d think i just told Brandy i won the lottery with the way she lets out an excited shriek, jumping up and down as i finish changing.
i leave her to get out her excitement as i go wash my face and brush my teeth, but when i’m back, she just seems even more excited.
“tell me all about him!” she demands, hopping back into her bed, turning to face mine as i crawl in and bury myself in my covers.
“he was enchanting.” i sigh, staring up at the popcorn ceiling. “he was so funny, and he was so sweet. we really clicked, Bran.
“we met at the party and spent hours just talking and getting to know each other. and then he took me to this diner, and we spent another hour and a half just talking about our lives. and he doesn’t know who my brothers are! i mean, he knows who they are, obviously, because he plays hockey, but he doesn’t know they’re my brothers.”
“oh sweet angel,” she sighs, and i turn my head to look at her. “you seem so happy.”
her eyes are soft, a gentle smile on her face.
“i am.” i tell her.
“are you gonna see him again?” she questions, laying down under her blankets.
“i don’t know, i—” my mood deflates, my face dropping as realization settles over me. “i didn’t get his number.”
“so ask Trevor for it.” she shrugs, as if it’s easy. and i guess for her, someone who doesn’t have crippling anxiety, it is.
“i can’t.” i shake my head. “that would be so embarrassing. i don’t want Trevor to know i’m interested in his friend. not yet.”
“you’ll see him again, sweet angel.” Brandy assures me, flicking off her lamp. “it’ll work out.”
the room goes dark and quiet, and a mere five minutes later, i can hear her snores fill the room. but i’m still awake.
i grab my phone from where it rests on my bedside table, unlocking it, i’m unsurprised to see it’s two am. i click into my photos app, swiping back and forth between the two pictures i took of Jamie tonight.
questions plague my thoughts.
does he have a girlfriend in canada?
who does he love?
when is he leaving, now that the season is over?
will i ever see him again?
please let this be the very first page of our story.
please don’t let this be where our storyline ends.
i turn off my phone, plugging it in and setting it back on my nightstand. his name echoes through my thoughts, and when i close my eyes, all i picture is him.
please don’t be in love with someone else.
please don’t have somebody waiting on you.
i drift into sleep, my dreams overridden by the same blue eyed, freckled boy that had taken over my mind.
*** TWO MONTHS LATER ***
it’s been months, but i still haven’t moved past that April night with Jamie.
i can be having a normal summer day, and yet some way or another, i’m reminded of the beautiful boy that i spent that night with.
sometimes it’s the blue of the lake water, which reminds me of his eyes. others it’s the color of my coffee in the morning, that reminds me of his hair.
it doesn’t help that nearly all of Trevor’s stories from the past season, include Jamie in some way.
it’s been months, and i still hope to every higher power, that i’ll see him again. that he’s single and hoping to see me too.
i’m sprawled across the couch, my head in my eldest brother’s lap as the guys play chel.
i was reading a book, but that’s been long abandoned; now closed and resting on my chest as i daydream about the freckled disney prince like boy from Anaheim.
“hey.” my trance is broken when Quinn pokes my cheek. i glance up at him, tearing my eyes away from their zoned out glare at the tv. “you okay?”
“yeah, i’m fine.” i give him a small smile. “just wondering where Trevor is and if he can stay there. it’s so quiet.”
Quinn laughs, zoning back into the tv screen as a new game starts between Jack and Cole.
“he went to-” Quinn is cut off by the front door opening and Trevor’s loud voice echoing throughout the house.
“honey, i’m home!” Trevor calls out and Quinn and i share an exasperated glance. “and i brought a guest!”
my brows furrow together at his statement, listening to the two pairs of footsteps that get closer to the living room.
“guys, this is Jamie. you know him from… playing against him.”
my eyes go wide, my head snapping up as i quickly raise myself to a sitting position, accidentally kicking Jack in the groin from my feet having been in his lap.
Jack lets out a groan, doubling over, while Cole laughs and takes that as his chance to score a goal on him in the video game.
“Jimbo, this is Cole, Alex, Quinn, and Jack, who looks like his appendix burst.” Trevor introduces and Jack coughs, holding up his middle finger at his best friend. “and you already know y/n.”
at the mention of my name and the flick of Trevor’s finger towards me, Jamie’s eyes snap to me, a smile on his face.
“hi.” i grin, shuffling to my knees on the couch.
“hey, i’m glad to see you again. i didn’t know you would be here.” Jamie’s eyes light up, crinkling as his smile gets brighter.
“it’s her brothers’ house Jimmy, of course she’ll be here.” Trevor laughs, slapping Jamie’s back, whose eyes go wide as he realizes.
“oh- these are your brothers? you didn’t say they played hockey.” Jamie chuckles awkwardly.
“what?” Jack huffs from behind me. “not only have you met him? but you didn’t tell him about your dear old brothers?”
Jack wraps an arm around the front of my shoulders, pulling me back into him and ruffling my hair.
“get off me, jackass!” i break free from his hold, making him laugh. “i didn’t tell him who you are, but i did tell him how annoying you are.”
Jack gasps in mock offense, reaching out for me, but i clamber into Quinn’s lap.
“keep him away, Quinny!” i shriek, making all the guys laugh.
“Jack, leave her alone.” Quinn chuckles and Jack slumps back on his seat, rolling his eyes.
“you two are no fun.”
“hey mini Hughes?” Trevor starts, plopping down into the seat beside Jack. “you mind showing Jimmy to the empty room? i wanna beat Cole’s ass at chel.”
“sure.” i rise from Quinn’s lap, sending a smile towards Jamie as i motion for him to follow me. he picks up his suitcase, shuffling behind me through the house and up the stairs until i lead him into the empty room beside mine.
“here ya go. your room for the… however long you’re here.” he chuckles at my words, setting his suitcase down on the bed before he turns to me.
“ya know, i was hoping i’d see you again.” he confesses, my cheeks turning pink.
“yeah?” he nods, “me too.”
“i was enchanted to meet you that night.” his hand grabs ahold of mine, lacing our fingers together. “and then i realized i didn’t get your number, and it felt too weird to get it from Trevor. so, i was really hoping i would run into you next season, but here you are now.”
“here i am.” i bite my lip, glancing down at his lips before back at his eyes.
“would you wanna go out while i’m here?” he asks shyly. “like, on a real date?”
“i would love that, Jamie.” i take the chance while i feel bold, wrapping my arms around his neck, his following suit and coiling around my waist.
“yeah?” he replies giddily, his voice filled with excitement and nerves.
“yeah. i’d love that a lot.” his eyes flicker down to my lips before his tongue darts out to wet his own.
“hey, Jamie?” my words earn me a distracted hum in return. “you finally gonna kiss me now?”
“oh yeah.” he nods, causing me to giggle.
his head dips down, our noses brushing as his lips finally press against mine. my entire body melts into his, my hands cupping the back of his neck to pull him closer. our lips fit together perfectly, fire spreading throughout my body at the feeling.
and all i can think, is how enchanting this feeling is.
#speak now fic list#jamie drysdale#jamie drysdale x reader#jamie drysdale imagine#jamie drysdale fic#jamie drysdale blurb#anaheim ducks#nhl fic#nhl imagine#faithlynn’s writings <3
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I want some drama and angst :( can you write a james x reader fic? They broke up and couple months later she find out shes pregnant? She went to tell james but then he told her he’s dating lily and thats why she didn’t tell him cause during their relationship she was always feeling insecure like she can never be lily and always felt like shes the second choice. Someone that he settles for? Then she move away?
James find out couple weeks later after she moves away that shes pregnant bcs of the potter tapestry. So he went to find her (i want him to work and grovel a bit lol)
Of course I can, lovely!! Thank u so much fir the request <3
Sorry that it isn’t the best, I’m really tired 🫶
Feel free to send in requests for me to get to though!!! Love you all
You’re pregnant? ~J.F.P
{In which you and James have broken up, and you haven’t told him you’re pregnant.}
It had been weeks since you and James had broken up, and it had left you pretty torn up. It was obvious to anyone with eyes that you were still in love with him. You were just as smitten as you were in the beginning, and he had, presumably, completely moved on. You hadn’t heard from him once since the breakup, and it had really ruined you.
With a little help from your friends, you eventually got back on your feet. You read, listened to music, watched movies. You were yourself again. However, your heart was still tender, and James still unknowingly held ownership over it. Things went okay, as of late. Thing we’re looking up. Until you started throwing up in the early morning, and were overcome with dizzying fatigue. When you missed your period, again, you started to worry. You decided to overcome the embarrassment of buying a test and get one from the corner shop.
That was probably the worst night of your life. Impatiently, you stared unblinkingly at the pregnancy test that lay on the table before you. When the unholy little pink cross faded into view, your heart dropped. You hadn’t had sex with anyone, not since James. Which only meant one thing. Suddenly, you couldn’t breathe. Falling forward onto the table, You crept a hand up to your chest, grasping at it as choked sobs started to tear through your throat. Everything was numb, but so excruciating at the same time. Your arms wrapped around your stomach loosely, shakily. The scar of James’s old love for you engraved in your body. He could love you and decide to take it back whenever he saw fit, pretend you two never happened, but you now had the solid evidence of your love in your womb. And you had no doubt the child would look unfairly like its father. And its father had to know he was just that. A father.
The next day, face red and blotchy from crying nearly all night, you dressed in the nicest clothes you could find without being too formal, and made for your ex-lover’s house. The address you’d memorised. Cruel nostalgia threatened to kill you as you took in the painfully familiar path to the painfully familiar door. When you knocked, the door opened to reveal an agonisingly familiar man. James. His face twitched in confusion. You knew his little tics and giveaways like the back of your hand: you had all of his features and quirks tattooed into your heart. His smooth voice saying your name ripped you out of your thoughts. “What are you doing here?” He asked you, and you smiled weakly. You looked at your feet. “James, I’m sorry, I’m-“ “Jamie? Who is it?” Another voice called. A honey-sweet, beautiful voice. Lily.
Freckled arms wrapped around James’s waist. Silky red hair cascaded down his shoulder when Lily placed her head on his shoulder. His face shifted in awkward shock, as he went rigid under her touch. “Lily, Uhm.. it’s…” he mumbled, nodding his head towards you. It felt like your heart had been ruthlessly ripped from your already sore chest. You were expressionless, unable to breathe and unable to deal with the agonising aching pain that throbbed unbearably inside of you. Oh, god. You felt like you were going to throw up. You nod stiffly, eyes glassy with unshed tears. “Lily.” Lily looks almost guilty, but doesn’t remove her soft arms from around James’s middle. She addressed you back, gentler than you did.
“What did you wanna say?” James asked quietly, face flushed slightly. “No. Nothing.” You murmur, turning on your heel. You needed to go home. You felt like you were about to black out. Is this what it felt like to have your heart shatter like glass in your chest, shredding up everything else? You wanted it to stop. You heard him shout your name after you, but the world around you felt muffled, and far away. It should be you with your arms around his waist, not the girl he told you not to worry about when you were dating. It should be you fixing his glasses, playing with his hair, raising his child with him. You’d always been insecure about Lily. She was beautiful. Flaming red hair, mossy green eyes, soft curves and plump lips, a kind aura and glowing smile. You knew you couldn’t compete with her. In your eyes, James would always love Lily, and you were a second choice. He couldn’t have Lily, so he settled for you. Tears had begun to drip down your cheeks, but the feeling was all too regular now, and you felt too empty to care.
James had sat on the sofa with Lily after he’d closed the door. He rested his head in his hands, visibly raging. “What the fuck was that?” He almost spat, glaring at her through his eyebrows. He’d never display this anger to you. “Sorry, James, but you were the one who broke up with her. And she deserves-“ “stop it!” James interrupted, his voice trembling. “I know! I fucking know she deserves better! But…” His lip twitched, a sign he was furious. “We’re over, mate, you know that. And you’re my friend, so I don’t know why you’d do this to me. You fucking know I love her. You know, Lily.” He says, his steady tone cracking at the end as he buries his head in his hands. He suppresses tears of his own. Lily moves over to him, trying to take him into a hug, which he accepts, always in need of physical touch while upset.
“Lily, I don’t know what to do.” She sighs, rubbing his back softly. “I won’t take back that she deserves better. Because she does. You broke up with her, James. But, I know you. And I know love when I see it.” Lily says, petting his hair. James was staring intently at the wall, frozen in place, not even sobbing anymore. “And if you really, really love her, you need to go to her, James, because-“ “Lily.”
Her eyebrows furrow, looking at James who’s still staring at the wall with wide, watery eyes. He looks fucking scarred, like a soldier in war. He looks devastated. Lily follows his gaze, and her eyes fall onto the potter tapestry which hangs pride of place above the fireplace. Her eyebrows twitch downwards as she leans forwards.
Between your full name in gorgeous italics and James’s in the same font, was another name. The name you’d planned to embellish your child with. Lily froze right beside James. She turned to him. Slowly.
“You need to go to her. Right fucking now, James.”
He turns to her, and slowly nods, wide eyes reminiscent of a terrified puppy.
You were curled up in your bed. You’d run out of tears a while ago, and so you lay there in silence. Not moving. Not sleeping. Not doing anything. You were numb and empty and so tired. You couldn’t find it in you to cry anymore. When there was a frantic rapping at your door, you couldn’t even drag yourself up to get it. Did it really matter? You felt like you were chained to the bed. You’d just rot there forever, you decided. until you heard a desperate voice screaming your name from outside. Immediately, you recognised it.
James.
Hesitantly, you crept down the stairs and clicked open the door. At the sight of how ruined you looked, James let out a pathetic whimper: his glasses were askew and his hair was messy, his face tear stained. He was beautiful even now. “What do you want, James?” You spoke blankly, not a single suggestion of emotion creasing your face. “I know you’re pregnant.” He admitted. Just when you were about to ask him ‘how?’ He dropped to his knees before you.
He was so pretty like this. James’s eyes were big and teary and betrayed what little sleep he’d been getting. His soft pink lip was wobbling like a baby’s, his glasses were seconds from falling from his nose, and his hands were clasped together as he knelt, looking up at you desperately.
“I- I’m in love with you. I need you, I fucking need you.”
He whimpered, shuffling closer to you and pressing his forehead to your legs. “Please take.. take me back.. I want to raise my baby with you.. you’re my only love, you always.. always have been…” he pleaded, his heart wrenching and his voice cracking like a teenage boy. He sounded downright pathetic.
You knelt beside him. “This time, Jamie.” You whispered, and he gasped in relief, collapsing into your arms. You let a weak smile embrace your features as you consoled him. “I love you too.” You confessed. “Only you. Only ever you.” He clung to you tighter. “I’m never leaving you again. I pinkie promise. My girl. Mine.” He promised, linking his pinkie with yours in a heart-wrenching act of childlike innocence. You were confident it would work this time. Now that you both knew how life felt without each other.
“Okay. Pinkie promise.” You replied.
#james potter scenario#james potter prompt#james potter x reader#james potter#james potter fic#prongs x reader#marauders#marauders x reader#James potter💌*~
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Cherry Blossom Confessions 🌸 Okkotsu Yūta x Reader
Pairing: Okkotsu Yūta x Reader (can be read as any gender, no pronouns used)
Genre: fluff
Word Count: 1 423
Summary: Yūta spills a well-kept secret
Prompt: accidental confession
A/N: Firs time writing for Yūta! Also, I wanted to post these stories in time with the local cherry blossom, but it keeps delaying because the weather was too cold (on Wednesday it snowed even). I’m just gonna start posting and hope the cherry blossom will eventually catch up with me.
Sakura Festival Masterlist - Masterlist
Pink petals drifted through the air, looking like snowflakes in the warm afternoon light. It was only late March, but the sun had already gained back a lot of its power after the colder winter months, making you smile contently to yourself as you closed your eyes and held your face into the sun, trying not to let yourself be distracted by the person at your side.
Yūta was, for once, out of his school uniform, and instead dressed in an oversized shirt and some wide jeans which made his slim figure seem to drown in fabric. But it looked good, unfairly good even. You could tell he was fiddling around with his necklace, even without looking at him, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that he seemed nervous.
“What’s wrong,” you asked eventually, unable to take his fidgeting any longer.
You had known him for a good while, and his behaviour now was more like he had been when you had first met him. Back then he had been jumpy and shy, always expecting the worst of people. But as he had settled more into the life at Jujutsu High, the shy and easily scared boy had turned into the open-hearted, funny, and fiercely loyal friend you had gotten so attached to.
“Nothing,” Yūta’s answer came almost too quickly, making you raise your brows before you blinked open your eyes and turned to look at him.
He had cut his hair a little since winter, the formerly long strands having been trimmed into a new haircut, which made him look gentler than the rather harsh look he had been sporting before. His grey eyes met yours defiantly, as if he was challenging you to question his reply, but you didn’t do him the favour. Instead, you continued watching his face.
Recently he had started getting cute freckles over his nose that now started to turn a darker shade as he blushed under your inquisitive gaze. You wondered if he could tell your own cheeks were heating up, too.
“Anyway,” you shrugged, tearing your gaze away from him and focusing back on the pink petals of the cherry trees you were sitting under.
Silence engulfed you for a while, but you couldn’t quite tell if it was the good or the bad kind. You also didn’t know what you were supposed to say. Which was weird, considering you never had any problems of engaging in conversation with Yūta. You always found things to talk about, to joke about, even if it was only Gojo-sensei’s latest shenanigans. But somehow it suddenly felt as if this silence was important, as if it were the preparation for whatever was to come next. What a strange sentiment…
“You’re beautiful.”
Confused you turned to Yūta, who was still watching you, his eyes widening as you met his surprised. He had never said anything like that before, usually his compliments were limited to your fighting in training or during missions.
Quickly you looked away, unable to hold his gaze any longer.
“Uhm, thanks…” you trailed off. Certainly he had to pick up on your embarrassment now, right? Your warm cheeks, the way you subconsciously had started playing with a blade of grass underneath your hand… you quickly pulled your hand away and intertwined it with the fingers of your other hand to stop the motion.
“Did I say that out loud,” Yūta wondered, a hint of amusement, but also embarrassment in his voice.
“Yeah, …”
He chuckled, and you glanced at him from the corner of your eyes. He had averted his eyes, and instead was staring up at the branches over you as he was chewing on his lip, clearly thinking hard about something. Suddenly he snapped his head back at you, almost startling you with the sudden motion, but it was obvious he had come to the conclusion of whatever he had thought over.
“I don’t tell you enough. Actually, I think I’ve never told you, but I always think you’re beautiful,” he confessed, his voice lacking any of the embarrassment from before and instead sounding determined now.
“Careful,” you chuckled nervously, “what will Rika think?”
Rika. Probably the biggest reason why you had never dared thinking of Yūta as anything other than a friend. You didn’t exactly feel like getting into a fight with a special grade curse over your classmate.
“Oh, she knows I think you’re beautiful,” Yūta shrugged, his voice returning to the more relaxed tone you usually knew from him.
“Does she?
“Yes, of course she does. I talk to her about you all the time.”
You furrowed your brows and turned back to look at Yūta. He had leant back, hands propped behind him against the grass, eyes closed. Black lashes rested against his pale, lightly freckled skin, and shadows of the cherry blossom danced softly over his features. He looked like an angel, you thought, or like the protagonist in some rom-com.
“You talk to her about me?” You hated how small your voice suddenly sounded.
“It’s not so strange, is it,” Yūta asked, his eyes still closed as he let the shadows slip over his face. “I have to talk to someone who won’t judge me. And Inumaki just keeps insisting I should finally confess to you. I can’t hear it anymore.”
You blinked, once, twice, wondering if Yūta was aware of what he had just said. And then you wondered if what he had just said meant what you think it meant.
“Confess what?”
The way Yūta tensed up revealed that he had not been aware of what he had just said. His eyes snapped open and quickly he sat up.
“I-”
The way he looked at you now, with widened eyes, and clearly insecure reminded you painfully much of the way he had looked at you in the first weeks of knowing you, always scared he had or was about to say something wrong, always worried you’d laugh at him, attack him, make fun of him or were out to hurt him.
“I- I didn’t…” His eyes kept skipping over your face as if the words he was supposed to reply with were writing in your features. After a few moments of stuttering around, he squeezed his eyes shut. “Confess that I like you,” he blurted out. “And have liked you for a long time. I didn’t want to tell you because I don’t want to put you in the weird position of rejecting someone who-”
“Yūta, Yūta!”
You interrupted the ramble he was picking up, instinctively bringing your hand up to his cheek. He still had his eyes closed, but instantly relaxed into your palm.
“Relax, it’s okay,” you assured him. “I like you, too.”
It took him a moment, but then the rest of the tension in his body fell away, and he blinked his eyes open.
“You do?”
The hope in his voice tucked at your heart and you nodded with a gentle smile.
“Yes, I do, you idiot. How couldn’t I?”
Yūta blinked at you, clearly surprised by your answer and uncertain what to do next. It took a few moments before the confused expression in his eyes melted away and was replaced by the joyous glimmer you loved seeing in his eyes so much.
“Then go out with me,” he demanded, a smile beginning to tuck at his lips, which turned into a proper grin as you nodded in agreement.
You were about to pull your hand away from his face, but he caught it in his, and keeping your eyes fixed on yours, he lifted your hand to his lips to place a delicate but lingering kiss on your knuckles, never breaking eye contact. The action drove heat into your cheeks, which only seemed to raise his confidence as he carefully lowered your hand and scooted closer to you.
“How about,” he leant in, his face right in front of yours now, “how about I take you out for dinner after this.”
You smiled at his suggestion and nodded. “I’d love that.”
“Perfect,” Yūta nodded to himself.
Then he wrapped an arm around your shoulder and gently pulled you backwards until you were laying in the grass, squeezed against him, looking up at the blue sky above you through the pink petals of the cherry tree. Suddenly he groaned, making you raise your eyebrows at him again even though you knew he couldn’t see it.
“What’s wrong?”
“Inumaki will be so pissed that he didn’t get to come up the ultimate confession-plan.”
@delzinrowe
#sakura festival#okkotsu yūta x reader#okkotsu yūta x you#okkotsu x reader#okkotsu x you#yūta x reader#yūta x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x yn#jujutsu kaisen x y/n#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk x yn#jjk x y/n#mad jjk#okkotsu yuta x reader#okkotsu yuuta x reader#yuta x reader#yuuta x reader#yūta okkotsu x reader#yuta okkotsu x reader#yuuta okkotsu x reader
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guilty conscience ☆ part one
⭑ part 2 , part 3 , part 4 , part 5 →
synopsis: it’s your first year at college and you’re 1,500 miles away from home. you’d feel completely alone if it wasn't for your attractive roommate ellie. will this attraction complicate the already uncharted territory? or will she be the answer to all your problems?
|✯| pairing & wc: college!ellie williams x roommate!reader. wc: 1.4k
|✯| cw (by part): 18+ themes (MDNI), fem reader, modern au!ellie, feelings of angst, sexual themes on like the verge of smut, some swearing
a/n: hey lovelies!!!! this my first time posting a fic so plz enjoy. feedback is appreciated as long as it is constructive. im new to all of this, and still learning. i plan on making this into a series so expect more coming soon. sorry if this chapter is very reader-centric. once reader gets to know ellie better, i’ll write more about her perspective. this will be a slow burn despite part 1 already having sexual themes (lol sorry, couldn't help it), but do expect eventual real smut <3 <3 (p.s: lets b mutuals, message me!!)
As you packed the last of your belongings into your parents' 2008 Toyota, excitement was the last thing you were feeling. When speaking about college, most people explained this coming of age experience with phrases like “change”, “hard work”, and “no sleep”. These pessimistic descriptions made the big move that much harder. Unlike your friends from high school, you were crossing multiple states to attend your dream school. You would’ve been stuck in your home state too if it wasn’t for your impressive art portfolio which earned you a full-ride. Art school is where you know you’re meant to be, but the anxiety of doing it alone lingered.
Of course you were happy to be escaping the grapples of your small Republican town, but you couldn’t help but wonder if 1,500+ miles would really be the solution to all your problems.
★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★
“God where is she??” you grunt to yourself. The brown swivel chair provided as dorm furniture was your only source of entertainment. You spun around in circles, checking your phone every few minutes. You were anticipating a text from Ellie Williams. Through the cracked screen your phone read 11:03pm and the notification wall was empty.
Ellie is supposed to be your roommate. The two of you had met through the university's online roommate matching system. Your interactions were limited to the few texts sent back and forth about move-in times and who’s bringing what. Ellie was supposed to show up 5 hours ago to move in her stuff but she never arrived. You consider messaging her to check-in but Ellie’s previous texts wreaked of un-interest so you thought it best to leave her alone. You knew nothing about the girl, or even what she looked like, but with her stand-offish demeanor and your overthinking, a friendship didn’t seem in the cards.
Another half-hour passes before the sound of keys rattling pulls you out of your trance. Realizing you’re about to be face-to-face with your new college roommate, you snap up from your slouched position and push your hair behind your ears in preparation.
The slender door lazily swings open and your gaze quickly shifts to the faux wood floors. There was a sense of hesitancy, like you weren’t ready to see your fate just yet. A pair of dirty, black converse covered in writing sulk into your line of sight, triggering you to look up. As you did, your eyes were met with the most jaw-droppingly beautiful girl you’ve ever seen. Peeking through her messy auburn locks were piercing jade green eyes and an angular nose scattered with freckles.
It was Ellie Williams, and she was the epitome of “cool girl". Your head spun with all kinds of thoughts as your physical body went idle. You sat before Ellie gawking until she broke the awkward silence that had gone unnoticed by you.
“Uh, hi… I’m sorry for coming in so late… some stuff came up. But uh, I’m Ellie Williams.” She held her right hand out towards you to shake it. It took you a second, but you snapped out of her spell and quickly shook her hand in return.
“Shit- Ellie, hey, it’s uh, nice to finally meet you.” You stumbled through your words as nerves overpowered your usual confidence. There was an obvious awkward tension between the two of you. A typical feeling when moving in with a complete stranger.
Silence loomed in the air as Ellie took a stationary tour around the small, 12 x 20 ft. dorm. She surveyed your side of the room, taking note of any items that could hint towards who you are as a person. Her eyes stopped on a band poster you had hung up just hours ago.
“You listen to Sleater-Kinney?” she inquired.
“Hell yeah, they’re one of my favorite bands. Honestly anything in the riot grrrl music scene is right up my alley. Do you listen?” you replied with more enthusiasm and less nerves than before.
“Yeah, yeah I do,” Ellie answered nonchalantly. You took note of her answer realizing what it could mean. Sleater-Kinney was like the gayest band ever, and Ellie definitely knew that. Maybe she just likes them for their music, but it's possible she also found the lyrics laced with sapphic pining to be relatable. Selfishly, you were dying to know her sexual orientation. Ellie seemed like too much of a stranger to ask her outright and so the game of reading between the lines began. Little did you know, Ellie was wondering the exact same thing about you.
It was getting late and Ellie decided to save unpacking for the morning when she wasn’t so tired. You climbed onto your stiff dorm mattress and fluffed your pillows for sleep. Ellie did the same in her bed.
“Is it cool if I turn out the lights now?” you asked, still navigating the new social dynamic as roommates. Ellie replied with a gentle hum and you hit the switch turning the room pitch black. As you lay in bed all you can think of is Ellie and the future. You didn’t know what it was, but you knew she was special, and you yearned to understand her. With these thoughts in mind, your eyes slowly begin to droop and you slip into a deep slumber.
The next thing you know Ellie is sitting at the foot of your bed staring straight into your soul. Her beautiful green eyes felt especially intense as the rest of her face was shadowed from the dark room.
“Ellie- I-” you could barely get out 2 words as you sat up from bed flustered. You felt like prey and she was the hunter… and you liked it. Ellie slowly inched her way toward you, crawling on hands and knees. She didn’t have to say anything, you knew what she wanted.
Your plush thighs sat between her knees and her crotch hovered over yours, heat being exchanged. You wanted her so bad. You needed her. Ellie took your chin in her hand and pulled you in close. You exchanged breaths as her lips brushed up against yours. She couldn’t wait any longer and pressed her face into yours, capturing your lips which she so longingly desired for. You fell back onto your pillows and she followed intently.
Her body lay pressed against yours and she desperately shoved her wet tongue into your supple mouth. It was ravenous and you wanted more. You knew she did too as you began to feel the rotation of her hips digging into your pelvis. The heavy breaths coming from her swollen lips were in sync with the fervent grinding. You bucked your hips towards her in a frenzy. Ellie took her veiny hand and ran it along your waistband. As she began to slip it into your pants... you woke up to discover your own hands cupping the heat below and Ellie nowhere to be found.
“What the fuck.” is all you could say. You pulled your hand from your pants and stared at the slick spider-webbing between your fingers. God this was humiliating. You climbed out of bed to wash your hands and glanced at the clock. It was 7:15am and Ellie was already gone. That seemed kinda odd for a 19 year old college student. You wondered where she had disappeared to so early in the morning.
Soon, the over-thinker took over and you began to grapple with the possibility that you said something out loud during your naughty wet dream. What if Ellie heard you? God what if you moaned her name?? What would you even say if she brought it up? Before you could formulate a hypothetical response, Ellie walked right through the door.
“AHh-” you yelped, startled by her presence. Ellie backed into the doorway holding a coffee in each hand.
“God, sorry, you scared me.” you explained. Ellie shuffled back inside, twiddling her thumbs trying to decide what to say.
“Sorry, I just left to grab some coffee early this morning. I couldn’t sleep.” She continued, “I brought you one too. As an apology, for any trouble I might have caused by showing up at almost midnight to move in…”. Your cheeks flushed with color and you hoped she didn’t notice.
“Oh, thanks Ellie, that's nice. I promise there was no harm done.” you answered, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. Seemingly enough, this news meant she was awake while you were, ya know... dreaming. Ellie definitely wouldn’t bring a pervert coffee though. Right? Either way, you knew one thing for sure, you've got to have her.
← masterlist ⭑ part 2 →
#ellie williams#wlw#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams fanfic#ellie x fem reader#tlou 2#the last of us#ellie smut#sapphic#ellie williams series#ellie williams smut#ellie tlou#tlou 2 smut#the last of us 2#ellie x you#ellie williams fan fiction
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ꜰᴀʟꜱᴇ ɢᴏᴅ | ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪ: ɪ'ʟʟ ꜱʜᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ᴠᴇʀꜱɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜʀꜱᴇʟꜰ ᴛᴏɴɪɢʜᴛ
pairing: dilf!Jake Sully x (f)human/avatar!reader
synopsis: It took a lot of time and advancements, but, with the humans' return to Pandora 8 years ago, and thanks to the constant raids of the Omaticaya, the scientists managed to make you and Spider an Avatar. Unlike him, though, you know nothing about and want nothing to do with it, and when your struggle to adapt becomes too overbearing, Jake decided to take matters into his own hands.
this story will contain an unhealthy, co-dependent relationship, and dark themes (smut, mental health, death, violence, infidelity), so pls read at your own discretion.
warnings: 18+ minors DNI, angst, age-gap (23 vs 43), pet names.
wc: 4.5k words
a/n: hi besties, and welcome to my first jake series! i have had this series in my mind for so so long, and it feels good to bring it to life finally. i am excited to get back into writing - i needed a little time to recharge after monster in me, and take a break and actually sleep and live my life hahahaha. anyway, i hope you enjoy this story, i'm so excited to write it and see where it takes me! xx
ps: this story will move perspectives and timelines a lott, so i hope it's not too confusing but pls do let me know if it is and i'll figure something out xx
replies and reblogs are massively appreciated, i loveee to hear from you so much!
na'vi compendium: tanhi - bioluminescent freckles, tsamsiyu - warrior, tawtute - human
series masterlist (x)
I want you to know, I’m a mirrorball
I’ll show you every version of yourself tonight
It was excruciating, the pain. It was never-ending, never relenting, it was enough to warrant the current position you found yourself in, curled up on your bed, knees brought close to your chest, hands grasping at your worn-down pyjamas, that much like everything else in this room, smelled like him, felt like him, was imbued with his presence and the memories he’s left that you’d never be able to forgive or forsake. Glossed-over eyes moved slowly through your room, at all the little trinkets you now had that you didn’t just a few months, all of them sharp and painful as they felt like they were digging painfully in you, leaving cuts and bruises in your already broken heart. Eventually, your gaze settled on a feather you were given the first day in your Avatar body, and it was an appropriate place to stop, as this was when it all began - this whole mess, that you were still debating whether it was worth it, worth all this, but which, at the time, was a pure and innocent new start, in a new body, in a new life.
I'll get you out on the floor
Shimmering beautiful
And when I break it's in a million pieces
“Come on, honey, it’s late already. You know life in the village starts early.”
The dragging of your feet did very little to make you appear more enthusiastic than you were feeling currently, and Norm sighed as he took it your deflated predisposition. It should be a happy time. You knew that. How many people can say that got a new chance, at a new life, on this planet that felt weirdly in between a home and a prison? A new chance to belong - the first one, actually. A chance to thrive and to experience this world the way it was meant to be experienced, the way that the natives experienced it. And yet, a few weeks in, you still felt like a complete stranger in a body you couldn’t recognise, in a culture that has never been your own, in a village that has never accepted you, that never ceased to look at you and see through you, right to the flimsy core of insecurities and self-doubts that plagued you constantly, that followed you everywhere you went, like a shadow in a dimly-lit room.
You looked across the room where the other neuro-link pod was being prepped, and next to it stood the only other young, human, adult on Pandora - your brother for all intents and purposes, the boy who you loved always, but hated in the moment, as you watched his lively and animated body language, practically beaming with anticipation. Spider, unlike you, settled in his new taller, bluer, shinier body almost immediately - a born acrobat, a made warrior, even before the Avatars were complete. He had no such compulsions, no shame or guilt, no embarrassment or anxiety, no feelings of inadequacy or imposter syndrome, just a pure, unadulterated joie de vivre and unquenchable fear of missing out. He got everything he’s ever wanted with that Avatar, and unlike you, he didn’t seem willing to squander the opportunity. You knew you should be more like him, and you were trying. The effort just wasn’t enough to overthrow the paralysing fear you felt every time you stepped foot in that village. You wondered if it ever will.
“Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!” With a sigh and a roll of your eyes, doing your very best to ignore the racket coming from just a few pods over, you allowed Norm to close the lid on top of your caged body, doing your very best to clear your head of the screaming voice that got louder by the second, the harder you tried. You’ll never make it. You will never be one of the people.
Hush
When no one is around, my dear
You'll find me on my tallest tiptoes
Spinning in my highest heels, love
Shining just for you
Life in the village did indeed start early, and while you walked away from Hell’s Gate and through the thick forest that surrounded you, you could already hear faint sounds coming from the general direction of the Omaticaya settlement, a dead giveaway people were preparing for what the day would inevitably bring, from training in the healing practices of the Tsa’hik or the warrior skills of the tsamsiyu, it was the relentless will to improve and contribute to the overall wellness of each other and their planet that fuelled Na’vi every day.
Soon enough, the carefully crafted tents came into view, each one unique to the owner, with pieces of bone or hides that gave it a personal, intimate appeal, and it was easy enough, once you knew the people, to be able to tell who each tent belonged to. You smiled as your eyes fixed on one tent in particular, small and understated, despite who it was inhabiting it - Neteyam, future Olo’eyktan, never found any use for unnecessary embellishments, be it on his person or any of his belongings, always preferring to keep the showing off to the actual battle or training, his impressive skill set and his ability to thrive in every challenge his brightest adornment. When he came out of it, like he could sense you were near, your smile widened taking him in, in all his tall, blue, muscular beauty. He was a handsome young man, the perfect mix between Neytiri and… him. He used to look more like his mother when he was younger, but now, all of 23 years old, he was more and more Jake with each passing day, and the thought both intrigued and scared you, almost in equal parts.
It intrigued you because, well… because there was something special about Jake, there always has been. Not just because he was the first and only human to do the consciousness transfer, to be accepted into the clan, to become one of the people, or that he was Toruk Makto, one of only 6 to have ever existed; not because he was Olo’eyktan, and a revered warrior and leader… but because he was him. He was kind and patient, he was sweet and caring, he was funny and fun… he was everything.
On the other hand, it was for the exact same reasons that Neteyam’s resemblance to his dad scared you. Because every time you looked at him, you saw Jake, and the feelings you harboured for him since you were old enough to pay attention, that dwindled in time, were mingled with the deep familial affection you felt for Neteyam, who has been your best friend since you were old enough to... well, have memories. You didn’t want your relationship with him to be marred by feelings you couldn’t, wouldn’t ever feel for him, you didn’t want your history erased by the possibility of more, not when it would be wrong - not when, at your core, you would just settle for him because you couldn’t get the person you really wanted.
“Oi! A little late for the mighty warrior to be coming out of his tent, isn’t it?”
Neteyam snickered as he noticed you and Spider approaching, and shook his hand in Spider’s direction.
“Why is she this mean only to me?”
Spider shrugged and patted Neteyam on the shoulder simpathetically.
“Girls, man… Am I right? Anyway, going to find Lo’ak and Kiri. See you guys on the training grounds.”
Hush I know they said the end is near
But I'm still on my tallest tiptoes
Spinning in my highest heels, love
Shining just for you
As Spider took his leave, almost skipping to the Tsa’hik’s tent, where he knew Kiri would be, you started walking quietly, anxiety rising in your chest with each step taken towards the grounds, where you’d once again, as you have for the past few weeks, prove to yourself and everyone around you that you weren’t made for this - the fighting, the battles, the wielding of death machines, be it a gun or a bow, none of it was yours to take, yours to concur. You were made for the labs, for the quiet, analytical lifestyle. You were made for wielding a guitar, and playing it until the strings broke, you were made for daydreams and illusions and fantasies you could only fathom yourself part of, for a happier, easier world that would allow you to be all of those things without incursions. Alas, the world was not what you envisioned for yourself when you were younger, and with this great opportunity, came sacrifices you hoped time would lessen and sweeten, and turn them into blessings in disguise.
“Are you ready for today?”
“Does that make a difference?”
Neteyam’s sigh was answer enough for you. He tried to help, he really did. He went above and beyond for you and you were grateful. He was a patient teacher and a great friend, and his determination, as always, came at a cost, the cost of another burden he had to carry, another person he had to parent and take care of, and while it was not lost on you, it didn’t matter. None of it mattered.
“You’re going to be okay. You just have to give yourself time to grow. You can’t compare yourself with Spider, who’s been in the village with us his whole life. It’s going to take you time and effort, but you can do this, Tawte. And I’ll be here, at every step, ready to catch you if you fall.”
You smiled a little, slightly distracted, as you always were, by his sweet nickname, and your thoughts flowed gently at the memories that stirred in you whenever he said it, at the way the first word he ever uttered as a babe was a slurred version of a word he heard all the time from his mother: tawtute... human. From her mouth, it was laced with poison and disdain, but not from Neteyam's, who loved you, ever since you were young, who accepted you for who you were. Tawte was a gentle reminder of how far you've come, and how the familial love between the two of you hasn't faltered through time, but only blossomed and deepened, much to your eternal gratitude.
And they called off the circus, burned the disco down
When they sent home the horses and the rodeo clowns
I'm still on that tightrope
I'm still trying everything to get you laughing at me
Your eyes, hidden behind a sea of glossy tears settled on the next item, the broken tip of an arrow, that you kept since that day, when you somehow did so poorly in bow practice, you managed to break an incredibly sturdy arrow, much to Spider and Lo'ak's amusement, and much to your deep dismay. You thought how about your feelings of inadequacy were exacerbated by the Olo'eyktan's watchful eyes, who observed you intently the whole time, and how that inadvertently set everyone's gaze on you. So many eyes - watching, judging...fearful; so many words - whispered and snickered, and it hurt. It all hurt. But then... he changed everything, not just in that moment, so far removed from you now, but for the rest of your life, with just a few simple words.
“What?” the shock couldn't be shaken off your face, no matter how hard you tried. You knew you needed to get a grip of your emotions, but that was always easier said than done for a girl who was aptly described her whole life as "wearing her heart on her sleeve".
“Ouch, kid. You’re hurting my feelings. I would have liked to think anyone would be honoured to be personally trained by the Olo’eyktan, but I think I’ve been humbled.”
“No, Jake… of-of course I am, I just think… your efforts are better spent on someone else, someone… who’s worthy of it.”
It was minuscule, the change, but it was there - his eyes, his smile had an edge to them, that wasn't there before. He wasn't happy with your words, and yet, he remained calm and maintained the easy, outgoing, friendly nature of his tone.
“How about you let me decide what my efforts are better spent on, kid?”
That was enough to shut you up, but when he noticed the purple tinge in your cheeks, and the way your gaze dropped in shame, his expression softened. He brought a hand to your face, his thumb grazing your chin so that you'd look up at him, and you hoped the shudder that tried you went unnoticed to him, and to the rest of the clan.
“Here’s the deal. I think part of the reason you are having such a hard time is because you’re here, in this village you’ve never truly been a part of, with so many watchful eyes on you. You feel the pressure of performing well in front of the people, in front of my kids… in front of Spider. You shouldn’t have to do that. So, my solution is simple: you and I go for a few days’ hunt. I will teach you the basics, like I learnt when I first joined the Omaticaya. This way you get to relax a little, get to remove yourself from this place for a while and enjoy the beauty of Pandora, and who knows, kid? Maybe you'll find it's easier to be a part of us than you ever could have imagined. What do you say, mm?"
I'm still a believer but I don't know why
I've never been a natural
All I do is try, try, try
How could you have said no to such an offer? Even now, with all this hindsight, standing on the edge of a cliff with so much room beneath you to fall, with one foot on the ledge and the other on a banana fruit peel, able to look at the situation from a vantage point you only got with all the months of history you've amassed, even now... you still would say yes. Because no matter the pain and the hurt that now seeped into you like rain through the cracks in the withered, dry ground, soaking into every facet of it... just like the rain, his presence and memory also gave you life, a purpose, a way to go on. And you wouldn't give that up, not while there was still breath in your lungs.
So you said yes. And you left, that same day, on the back on his beautiful ikran, for a long ride that would take you somewhere deep in lands you've never experienced before, away from whispers and prying eyes, away from the doubt and the fear. As you were flying far above the world you've known and loved your whole life, that scared you your whole life, you couldn't help but think of what Jake was doing, and feel grateful for it. You thought about how it only consolidated the way you've always viewed him, as a great warrior, a great father, a great mentor... a great man. You thought about your crush, and how it embarrassed you as a teenager, and how you couldn't look him in the eye whenever he came to the lab and asked you a question, how you couldn't be around him without thinking you're gonna catch fire. That was long ago.
It passed, you thought. The crush, slightly weird and completely unattainable, passed through time. Yet here you stood, bare back, yet another foreign feeling you were trying to get used to, flush against his muscular chest, his palm protectively wrapped around your abdomen, and somehow, you forgot to take in the beauty of this world you’ve never seen from such a high vantage point, forgot to enjoy the fact you were literally flying, the air flowing through your luscious, thick hair… you forgot to breathe.
“You okay there, kid? Tell me if this is overwhelming, we can take a break.”
“N-no. I’m alright…Thank you.”
“Good girl.”
I'm still on that trapeze
I'm still trying everything
To keep you looking at me
Jake struggled to rationalise how things could have ever ended up this way. How did this happen? A few short months ago, it seemed, his life was... normal, or as normal as life could be in the middle of an ongoing territorial war with a species that was once his own, that he now disowned, that he now despised most days. Still. Normal. The same way it had been since he arrived on Pandora, since he mated with Neytiri, since he had one kid, and then another, and another...
He's known you since you were born. He took pity on you, much like he did Spider, for the cruelness of the Universe, for whatever it took for you to be born on this planet he loved, but knew was inhospitable to those who weren't made for it. Aliens. That was about the extent of your similarities to Spider, though. Unlike him, you were sweet, docile, quiet. You never came out to the village, and the few times you did, you just stood in a corner, on some tree stump, clinging to Neteyam like a little lost puppy.
How did it end up this way? It was wrong, it was all wrong. He knew it in his heart he had to stop, and he's been trying... so hard, it was all so hard. In these months, despite his mind telling him otherwise, urging him to consider all he stood to lose, he still ended up putting his life, everything he's built up on the line for you, doing things that frightened him, ashamed him, embarrassed him, but that he couldn't stop doing because it was you. And you were everything, and the way you made him feel was everything. And it all started that night.
The training was not necessarily any less painful than it had been, but he was right - it was easier. He was a good teacher, you told him. You say you understood now where Neteyam got it from, his penchant for imparting wisdom in a calm, collected and patient manner. He went through all the basics, and after a good few hours, he felt like you were almost... relaxed. By eclipse, you were hunched over food that he was preparing over fire, while practicing your Na'vi - the only thing you felt comfortable enough to call yourself good in, and for the first time since you got your Avatar, you looked... happy. You needed this and he knew it. You didn't even know it for yourself, but he knew. And thinking about it, and him, made you blurt out a secret you held in your soul for years and years, before your mind had enough time to talk you out of it.
“I used to have a crush on you, you know?” You chuckled a little, and Jake was fascinated by the sound, which sounded less like a laugh and more like bells chiming in the wind, and by the purple tinge of your cheeks as you confessed something that he couldn’t believe his ears, that were now pushed back flat in shock.
“You used to have a crush on me?”
His tone amused you even further, it seemed, because you brought a hand to your mouth to stifle the sound Jake felt a sudden desire to continue hearing for the rest of his life.
“Why do you sound so surprised?”
“I don’t know, kid, just… never thought out of everyone in this village, and the labs, people your own age, including my kids and Spider, you’d ever have a crush on an old man like me.” He chuckles his own rugged, awkward laugh and looks over at you, the way he couldn’t stop himself doing, it seemed, to gauge for a reaction that he didn’t know whether he wanted to see.
“I think that was part of the charm, actually.” As you catch yourself talking, you stop and turn, the tinge in your cheeks no longer a tinge but a splash of violent colour as you pat yourself aggressively with both hands, to release some of the heat that pooled unwelcome in your face. “I… I really should not… say things.”
He raises an eyebrow, clearly amused and intrigued at the new development. “So you like ‘em older, huh, kid? Always the shy and quiet ones, ain’t that so?”
You retreat further in yourself at the way he just called you out, unconsciously making yourself smaller by bringing your knees in and wrapping your arms around them, your face buried in between your legs in embarrassment and you let out a small groan. You couldn’t believe this was happening to you. First time in your life you were fully alone with this great man, this man that is a legend, that will have history books written about him even back on Earth, this man that knew so much and achieved enough to last lifetimes and instead of learning from him, instead of doing what you came here to do to begin with, here you are, running your mouth faster than your brain could catch up, making sure you would never be able to look him in the eyes ever again.
“Are you still playing that guitar of yours? You used to drive Neytiri crazy with that thing when you were young.”
“Yeah, I still play, just, I keep it to the rec centre mostly.”
“Why?”
“I just... don’t want to bother anyone.”
You sounded sad, too sad. He saw your eyes swimming with tears and he cringed at the way he was unable to make you feel fully comfortable around him. This shouldn't be this hard.
“Ah, kid… you can play in the village. The Omaticaya love music, they’re called the Flute Clan for cryin’ out loud. They just need time.”
“It’s been 23 years.”
Jake didn’t push anymore, not when you were right. It’s been a long enough time, but some things… some things don’t get better with time. Jake’s always hated that stupid old saying anyway.
“Y’know… I play a little guitar, too.” He scoffs a little as he thinks more about it. “Well, used to play. Probably not any good anymore, but at some point, I used to be.”
Your eyes shoot to him and the glimmer in them makes Jake’s mind come to a standstill - they were so beautiful. You were so beautiful.
“Really? That’s amazing!” And just like that, your previous outburst was swiftly forsaken and forgotten, the new piece of information far too exciting for you to dwell on anything else. “How come I’ve never heard you? You should play for us sometime.”
Jake smiled a sorrowful smile that stopped short of reaching his eyes. “Just… haven’t had the chance.”
There were a lot of reasons Jake hasn’t done so many of the things that used to bring him joy when he was human. But ya win some, ya lose some, that was always his philosophy for life anyway. He had so much to be grateful for in this life, so much more than he ever thought possible for a grunt like him. The Universe has been more than generous in compensating him for a lifetime of resentment and regrets, and so if he had to give certain things up, that he did so without thinking twice about it.
“So how did you learn?”
“My old man taught me, probably the only thing he ever taught me, unless you count how to run a backdoor draw while high off your ass.” Jake lets out a humourless laugh, enjoying the look of confusion plastered all over your face, and the way your tanhì seemed to shine brighter when you ruminated over something in your head. Your nose crinkles a little, as his words register fully in your ears and they twitch, and the humourless laugh quickly evolves in a warm, inward smile.
You were beautiful, he ends up acknowledging yet again, taking in all the mannerisms that somehow escaped him all these years.
“A what?”
Jake chuckles, shaking his head. “Nevermind.”
“Did you not… get along with your dad?”
Jake finds himself, for the first time in years, too many years, thinking about his dad and his life as a young kid back on Earth, and all the shitty memories that came along with that thought, memories he’s tried to repress most of his life. He catches yet another sigh before it escapes him, a habit he’s seemed to have quickly picked up in your presence, as you asked questions most people never did, questions he didn’t want to answer, questions he wanted nothing more than to be asked.
“My dad was a mean ol’ dog, who liked women and booze more than he ever liked Tommy or me. I could never find it in me to care when he died.” That was morbid, he recognises, but it needed to be said. Something about you just makes him want to just… confess things he shouldn’t be feeling, and shouldn’t be saying out loud, and yet here he was, heart thumping and palms sweating almost nervously, and the word vomit didn’t seem like it was anywhere close to over.
“He made mean sloppy joes, though. And he played the guitar like he was born with a six-string in his hands.” There were some good memories. The memory of his dad teaching young squirt Jake Future Days, his old, cigarette-imbued hoarse voice singing the lyrics that still had the power to bring tears to his eyes… that was one of the good ones.
You smiled as he spoke, a warm, inviting smile, that made the breath catch in his lungs and begged him to spill all the secrets that he tried so hard to bury deep inside, and he feels his stomach drop when he realises the feelings you invoked in him, for the first time in his life, were no longer ones he could justify or explain, but ones that demanded to be felt.
The silence was heavy and awkward after that, or so he thought, and he watched you as you ruminated over his words, as you nibbled at the fish he managed to catch while teaching you the basics of fishing. He shouldn't have said it, any of it. What the hell does he think he's doing, going around confessing the depths of his somewhat bitter soul to a kid who knew nothing about life, and who shouldn't have to carry his burdens to begin with. Maybe coming here was a mistake. Maybe being alone with you... was a mistake.
"You should go to sleep, kid. There's a long day ahead of us tomorrow, and the sooner we're done, the sooner your life can go back to normal."
You nodded gently and obliged.
“I think you’re lying.” You say, as you turn your back to him, closing your eyes and preparing yourself to return to your human body, as soon as sleep would find you. “I think you cared. I think you still care. And it’s ok to care. Sometimes… people are horrible and they suck… and we love them anyway. And I think that’s what makes humans special… and good.”
Jake was too stunned to be able to say anything else, as he stared mouth-agape at your back.
“Sleep well, Jake.”
Maybe he did lie. Maybe life will never go back to normal again and the thought... the thought terrified him.
Because I'm a mirrorball
I'm a mirrorball
I'll show you every version of yourself
Tonight
taglist: @yagirlheree @mashiromochi @deepdarktower @tojisleftarm @childofgod-05 @youngpersonaathletebear @cinetrix @hinataashoyos @i-live-in-a-fantasy-daydream @misscaller06 @v1l-ismissing @legendarynoodlebowl @analuw @imjustcal @the-fractured-eye @pandoraontop @sweetirilly @kouyoumarryme @blxkstar @ok-boke @myheartfollower
#☆ andra's series#༊*·˚ andra's works#false god series#jake sully#jake sully smut#jake sully fic#dilf jake sully#avatar smut#avatar twow#avatar#avatar fanfic#jake x reader#jake smut#jake sully x reader#jake sully x yn#jake sully reader#avatar reader#avatar fanfiction#avatar jake#jake sully x y/n#avatar way of water#avatar the way of water#dbf!jake#jake sully angst#jake sully series#avatar x reader#avatar angst#avatar twow angst
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I wanna write an AU where Rhaenyra chooses Harwin to marry and their marriage is solidified in the eyes of the Realm.
Immediately, Rhaenyra becomes pregnant. The couple are overjoyed and the kingdom celebrates, excited at the prospect of introducing a brand new prince or princess to the world.
When Prince Jacaerys Targaryen is born, Harwin is absolutely /flooded/ with joy and pride. Jace is his precious boy, his /beautiful/ firstborn son. He looks so much like himself but with Rhaenyra's violet eyes and her gorgeous smile. It doesn't matter to him that his hair isn't white (he doesn't care /what/ the Queen says). Jacaerys is his perfect, special boy.
Not even two years later, Rhaenyra is announced to be pregnant with their second babe. Her stomach doesn't grow nearly as large as it did when she was in her later months carrying Jace which did worry the Maesters just a tad but, Harwin wasn't concerned at all. Rhaenyra was strong, stronger than anyone he knew, if anyone could pull through-it would be his beautiful wife.
And, he was right. Eight months into her pregnancy, albeit a little early, Rhaenyra gave birth to their second son; Lucerys Targaryen. Harwin's precious, sweet little second son. Tinier than most babes he is but as strong as can be nonetheless. He looks like the spitting image of Rhaenyra. Bright violet doe eyes, a button nose with freckles caked across his cheeks, and a sparkling happy smile. When Rhaenyra first laid eyes on him, she sobbed with joy and whispered how he looked so much like her mother; the late Queen Aemma. King Viserys agreed, holding his second grandson and weeping whilst gazing at his sweet face.
It was at this time that the rest of Viserys's children had begun to become more curious about their older sister and their nephews. Prince Aegon often dragged the young Prince Aemond down to sneak into his and Rhaenyra's chambers to get a peek at the two young boys when Luke and Jace were playing.
Harwin wouldn't say anything against the young princes when they sneak in, when they think no one could see them. If anything, it warms his heart to know that, despite Queen Alicent and her bitterness against his wife and their children, her boys nonetheless attempt to be close to their nephews even when their mother argues against it.
Harwin watches, amused as Prince Aegon rushes over to Jace and immediately plops down next to him from where Harwin's eldest boy is playing with his youngest. The two sit on the floor surrounded by tiny dragon wooden cut out toys and Jace squeals as Prince Aegon takes one of the toys and starts playing. Little Luke kicks his tiny four month old feet out and giggles loudly, clapping his hands together.
Prince Aemond takes a little more coaxing but, eventually, they all are playing together on the floor with the sound of happy laughter and childish giggles ringing throughout the room like church bells.
It isn't too long before Rhaenyra returns, entering their chambers and the group of children all whirl to meet her.
"Oh my," She gasps, but she's smiling and little Luke squeals, babbling nonsense and reaching towards his mother. "It seems I have a group of little hatchlings nesting in here. What are you doing away from your mother at this hour, brothers?"
"Playing!" Prince Aegon shouts and stands up, smiling wide as he raises his arms. "Mother forgot to put Aemond down for a nap so I brought him here!"
At that, his wife's smile falters just a tad. It was not secret that Queen Alicent often...neglected her children, leaving them to the servants and wet nurses instead of spending time with them herself.
But, that didn't seem to bother the two young princes as they would often sneak away to come find their nephews anyway.
"All by yourselves?" Rhaenyra asks, concerned and that's when Harwin speaks up from where he was situated beside one of the desks inside their bedroom, hidden from sight but able to keep an eye on the group.
"Don't worry, princess," Harwin spoke up and all heads turned to him. "I've been watching them."
Rhaenyra sighs with relief and stalks towards little Luke who was practically crawling over to her at this point, desperate to get to his mommy. He had always been more attached to her than Harwin but, Harwin supposed he didn't blame his son. He was quite attached to her too.
"Hello, little love," She whispers to her second son as she picks him up and cradles Luke against her chest. He coos and babbles, clutching onto her hair and nuzzling against her. "Yes, hello, my sweet boy. I've missed you too."
"Can we stay, sister? Please, please?" Prince Aegon begs, bouncing on his tip toes as he grabs at her black dress. His eldest sister chuckles and she gently runs a hand through his wavy white hair and he leans into it.
"Ah, well," She sighs in a teasing manner. "I /suppose/ you could stay for a bit while longer."
Prince Aegon and Prince Aemond cheer and Jace and Luke follow along, all of their giggles resounding and joining together.
Harwin and Rhaenyra smile at each other and he walks over to kiss his wife, his girl humming against his lips and he then plants another kiss upon her head and one on little Luke's.
It won't be for some time that they have another babe, many years but, Harwin cherishes each and every moment he has with his family. His perfect family.
#harwin strong#rhaenyra targaryen#lucerys valeryon#lucemond#jacegon#jacaerys targaryen#aegon targaryen#harwin x rhaenyra#aemond targaryen
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I Can't Say Goodbye
Summary: He was never going to be her happy ending.
Pairing: Ben Chilwell x Fem!Reader // Christian Pulisic x Fem!Reader (Briefly Mentioned)
Requested: Nope
Song Inspo: Happy Ending - Mika
Warnings: 18+, minors dni, smut, angst, pre-established relationship <- and i use that term loosely here, infidelity, one mention of biting, unprotected sex, ben crying, heartbreak, no happy ending, not edited
Notes: she's clearing out the drafts, everyone cheer for her!! this wasn't the winner of the poll but it's shorter than the other thing i'm writing. anyway, i'm about to break your hearts in like 1000 words or so, get ready. feedback is always appreciated
Reaching for her hands, Ben intertwined his and his lover’s fingers together, placing a kiss on the backs of them, before pressing them into the pillows above her head. Loose strands fall in front of his eyes, tickling them both from above as his face aligns with hers. It makes her head spin, him leaning over her like this, his body wrapped up in her legs, his cock nestled deep inside. "Give me a second, love," he rushes to get out as Y/N impatiently grinds her hips against him, trying to trick him into moving again, "I just want to look at you."
He studied her features like he was studying a piece of art, and with an intensity that made her face burn. He took mental images of every part of her that stood out the most to him. From her eyes and their colour to the shape of her lips, and every spot, her consolations of freckles, her dimples, and the scars that had a place to call home on her body. He tried to cement them all into his brain.
There wasn't a part of her that he didn't want to forget.
"I never want to forget how beautiful you are," Ben whispers, dipping to kiss her mouth, his tongue flirting with hers as she parted her lips. She squeezes his hands tighter, her cunt fluttering as he moves his hips, rocking his cock in and out of her. "And all those little sounds you make for me," he chokes, new tears pricking his eyes, “I'll never forget them.”
Y/N detangles their hands, quickly wiping the tears that dampened his cheeks, before threading her fingers through his hair, the brunette locks slipping through her fingers like soft strands of silk. "I love you,” she whispers against his mouth, meaning the words that came out her mouth.
“I know,” he utters back, his hand running down her naked frame. He hitches her leg higher over his hip, trying to remember the way she gasps his name as he thrusts deeper.
The moments between broken apologies and the desire to remember the other were filled with soft whimpers and ragged breaths. Neither of them wanted to say goodbye, but they knew this secret of theirs wasn't built strong enough to last. Eventually, one of them would slip up. And two broken hearts was better than three.
He wraps his hand around the back of her neck, pressing his hand into the base of her skull, pulling her closer as he sinks his weight on top of her. She could feel his heart hamming against her chest, mirroring her own. He forces his tongue past her lips, taking her mouth in a searing, dominated kiss. He kissed her like she was the oxygen that filled his lungs because without her, he wasn't sure if he would stay alive.
“I just wanted you to be mine,” he sobs, pressing his forehead against hers. He closes his eyes, wet lashes sticking together, as more tears trickle down his cheeks. “But he'll give you what I can't,” he adds, touching his thumb against her bottom lip. It trembles as she fights the urge to cry. She had to stay strong for both of them. “He'll give you the happy ending you deserve.”
She slides her hand over his jaw, his beard prickling the smoothness of her palm. “Look at me,” she pleads, wanting to look into his eyes for one last time.
Y/N knew she was in trouble the first time she looked into Ben's eyes. Two pools of the purest water. The deepest oceans known to humankind. She had gotten lost in them too many times to count. And when they flutter open, she gets lost in them for one final time.
She wraps her legs tighter around him, pulling him deeper. “One last time,” she withers beneath him, her body shaking as he reaches his hand down her body. He presses the tips of his fingers against her clit, rubbing the sensitive nub in a tantric rhythm, working in tandem with the slow snapping of his hips. “There,” she whimpers, the wall she had built up before coming here crumbling as she feels herself begin to let go, “that - yes - keep doing that.”
“I've got you,” he whispers, brushing his lips against her temple, “just let it out.” He groans, hot breath fanning her face, as she clenches around him, her walls milking his cock as she comes for him. “That's it,” he repeats like a chant, tearing his hand away and fisting the pillow beside her, feeling himself spilling inside her. His hips grind into her, soft pants of unintelligible sayings escaping Y/N's mouth as he pulls them both through their highs. “Fuck,” he bites down her shoulder, burying his face into her honey scented skin, “I'm still coming-”
After catching his breath, Ben rolls over, pulling her so she is half lying across his chest, his hand roaming the length of her back. She lifts up onto one elbow and strokes her fingers over his chest hair, sporadically kissing his body until she finally reaches his mouth. “Please, don't say it,” he begs, hearing enough goodbyes to last him a lifetime. He covers his face to hide another fresh wave of tears. “Just wait until I've gone to the bathroom.”
He rolls out from under her and she goes about searching for her clothes in the dark.
One by one, she pulls them on, saving her boots for last, before digging around in her bag for her phone. A picture of her and Christian flash up on her lockscreen, taken during the last summer break, and she has to swallow the guilt that sits on her tongue like a bad aftertaste. He thinks she's in London to see her family, homesick after their recent move to Milan. This, her seeing Ben for one final time, would have never crossed his mind.
No, Christian trusted her too much to suspect her of cheating.
With one final look at Ben's bed, all the memories they had made together under the comfort of his sheets, she exits his bedroom and then finally his home for the last time.
———————
Football Taglist: @shanoontje @maseandkepa @theblxefox @blueathens @ofxinnocence @mrschilly @geek-and-proud @in-my-body-bag @laurasstufff1 @mountchilly @spicysainz @thoseboysinblue @kickinganddriving @lizzypotter14 @bracedes @chilwellspulisic @notsoattractivearenti @swimmingismywholelife @lovelynikol16 @masonsrem @landoslover @kathb59 @emcv1427 @gagaslonina @afterpills @pulisicsgirl
#ben chilwell#ben chilwell imagine#ben chilwell smut#ben chilwell one shot#ben chilwell blurb#ben chilwell angst#ben chilwell x reader#ben chilwell x y/n#ben chilwell x you
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what genshin ships i ship because i want to rant about them
disclaimer
if you don't ship these that's totally cool please don't attack me ok
kaebedo - agh like so first of all: the pining. like i bet these bitches were staring at each other in the halls of the favonius building and every time kaeya would drop off klee with albedo they would just stare at each other a little too long and klee would be like "uh guys?"
established relationship i feel like kaeya's love language is gift giving and albedo's love language is acts of service. they leave each other little flowers or notes by their doors/on their desks during their days <3
kaeya's really touchy but respects albedo's space and knows he doesn't like a lot of that. but when albedo initiates the touch kaeya goes fucking bonkers
chili/tartali/zhongchi - ok so childe fell first and MUCH harder than zhongli did. but zhongli did catch feelings after a bit and was like "of course it had to be the rascal from snezhnaya. of course."
established relationship: zhongli gives childe massages a lot because he's always sore from fighting :> and at first childe was self conscious bc he has a lot of scars (i also headcanon childe has moles/freckles all over his body) which he was nervous about zhongli seeing but zhongli just like completely affirmed him that he was beautiful <333
childe's love language is physical touch and zhongli's love language is gift giving :)))
heikazu/kazuhei - so like. hc heizou intentionally pretended to not figure out kazuha's case when he was a fugitive because he was too pretty to be arrested :pleading eyes: and like after the vision hunt decree is over they start to talk and theY PINE SO FUCKING HARD. VERY HIGH LEVELS OF PINING ALERT ALERT
i think kazuha would confess first through a poem and despite heizou being smart he can't get this poem through his dummy thicc skull and didn't even realize he was confessed to until months later lol. yada yada yada they confess they kiss and they date. and despite their relationship being long-distance because kazuha's still a traveler, they always cherish the moments they do have together :> (both of their love languages are quality time)
thomato - these gays. THESE GAY PEOPLE. so like. they both fell hard but i think ayato fell first tbh. but he was like in denial about it cuz yk "oh he's my housekeeper" but he just couldn't stop thinking about thoma and gave in to his feelings heheh
established relationship: thoma calls ayato by his name in private and "my lord" in public, but has slipped up once or twice and the other maids at the estate were like wtf lmao. hc thoma is even more caring and devoted as before and ayato makes sure he takes care of himself and rests properly :) and when thoma gets sick, ayato forces him to stay in bed and just spoils him with love and care eheheheeh
ayato's love language is physical touch and thoma's love language is acts of service. ayato's may come as a surprise but i feel like this man is so unbelievably touch starved that as soon as the two of them are in private ayato immediately goes to hug/cuddle with thoma lol
kavetham/haikaveh - and they were roommates.
so. alhaitham originally hated having kaveh around but eventually got used to and even enjoyed his company (he'd never admit it, of course) but they both have their routines - kaveh makes coffee in the morning for the both of them, and despite alhaitham never allowing anyone else to make coffee for him, he lets kaveh because kaveh knows exactly how he likes it. one morning when kaveh had to leave early, he left alhaitham's coffee on his nightstand for him :> hc they confessed in the middle of an argument, like "IT'S BECAUSE I LOVE YOU, OKAY?" and hilarity ensues.
alhaitham's love language is acts of service and kaveh's love language is words of affirmation. haitham will write "i love you" super small on the bottoms of kaveh's sketches just to see if he notices ehheh
cynonari/cynari - these two. cyno definitely fell first and has been pining since like their akademiya days lol. cyno kept visiting tighnari constantly in avidya and it got to the point where tighnari asked him why he visited so much and cyno simply said "because i love you" and that was that
lots of sleepy cuddles together, late night chats, long tcg games ~
cyno's love language is words of affirmation and tighnari's love language is physical touch. tighnari just always wants to hold cyno's hand or let him touch his ears/tail. tighnari will randomly say "i love you" whenever they're doing literally anything together, and it always catches cyno offguard lol
thanks for reading my massive long fucking rant lol
#kaebedo#chili#tartali#zhongchi#heikazu#kazuhei#thomato#ayathoma#kavehtham#kavetham#haikaveh#cynonari#cynari#genshin ships
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@steddiemicrofic prompt for september! | "charm" wc 548 | rating: T | cw: (non-terminal) cancer
Steve sneaks out of his own party about two hours in.
It’s just…God, it’s overwhelming. His dad and Hopper are having some kinda macho mental breakdown in the corner, and his mom keeps pressing food into his hands, and the look on Robin’s face is just—it's joy, and pride, and fear, all directed at him, and he doesn't know what to do with it.
The whole room is heavy with his people's love for him, so strong he swears he could reach out and grab it. He'll go back in later and bathe in it, but for now, he retreats outside.
It's cold and drizzling, so of course Eddie's already there, sitting by the edge of the pool with his feet in the water. Steve pauses for a moment to just…stare at him, to take him in. The pool light wavers off his face, his freckle-dotted shoulders, the just-barely-long-enough-to-curl fuzz on his head. He looks beautiful.
He almost looks healthy.
“Someday I’m gonna write about this,” Eddie says, as Steve kicks off his shoes and sits down next to him. “I’m gonna make us all incredibly smart, incredibly sexy action heroes who never lose, and I’m gonna twist the facts enough that Uncle Sam won’t tear my dick off, and I’m gonna make a million dollars on the film rights.”
“Yeah?” Steve snorts.
“Yeah. And I’m gonna make us vampires.”
Steve shivers, a raindrop slipping down the back of his neck and underneath his shirt. He leans into Eddie’s side, chasing his warmth.
“Vampires, huh?”
“It fits, right? Bats bite you, inject you with their weird bat venom, and your blood cells start mutating and multiplying faster than your body can keep up. Boom. Vampires.”
He winds his arm around Steve’s shoulders and pulls him closer, so close that Steve thinks he might fall right through Eddie’s skin and into his heart. It’s how they’ve gotten used to touching each other, these past six months.
Steve wonders if they’ll stop, eventually. If the fact that they have time now means they can stop holding each other like a breath.
He hopes they don’t.
“It’s a lot sexier than cancer,” Eddie says. “Isn’t it?”
“Maybe,” Steve says. “But you can’t go into remission from vampirism.”
It’s the first time he’s said the word, and it feels a bit like champagne on his tongue. Bubbly and bright and fucking intoxicating.
“Guess you can’t,” Eddie concedes. He kicks a foot forward, sending a spray of water up to meet the rain. “God. Fuck. You’re in remission.”
“I’m in remission,” Steve says. “We’re in remission. We made it.”
Eddie sniffles. Turns and presses a kiss into the side of Steve’s head.
“I feel like I should give this back to you, now,” Steve says, fiddling with the guitar pick around his neck. Eddie had given it to him the day he’d gone into remission, almost two months ago.
My lucky charm. It got me this far, he’d said, curling Steve’s fingers around it. It’ll bring you the rest of the way.
“Fuck, no,” Eddie laughs wetly. “Keep it. You need all the luck you can get.”
“What about you?” Steve asks.
“I don’t need it. I’ve got you, don’t I?”
“Yeah,” Steve whispers as the rain comes down harder. “You’ve got me.”
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Life goes on (e.w.) part 1
*not my images, but i edited it
My masterlist <3
pairing: young!ellie/young!reader
Warnings: fluf; reader is referred to as she/her; mentions of trauma; mentions of death and killing; just cute best friend stuff really; Kind of proofread, English is not my first language.
Author's notes: Hi! This was a request but im having a blast writing it! I hope you like it, I really liked writing it! Feedback is always welcome and likes and reblogs are always encouraged! Thank you! Enjoy! More parts to come!
word count 1.5k
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5
14 years old - Part 1
Ellie and you became instantly friends when she arrived at Jackson with Joel. Like 2 peas in a pod, you were inseparable, you were her sun and she was your moon, she always liked you a little more than friends but she could never really explain it. Nothing could separate you, not even the apocalypse. Not even the end of the world.
You had met when she got to town, you were both 14. She was a shy girl and she seemed like she'd seen a lot of stuff. One day she was in the park alone on the swings and you saw her while you were walking home from school. The school was an old building that used to be a nursery before the outbreak , but they had made a makeover so it felt more appropriate for all ages. There weren't a lot of kids in Jackson so a new face was always welcome. There were four groups of classes at school. One for the babies, one for the toddlers, one for the kids, and one for the teens. Next year you were going to move on up to the oldest class. You didn't really have friends at school. You talked to the other kids but they never liked you very much. When you saw Ellie, you hoped this would be an opportunity to finally make a real friend.
“Hey! I've never seen you around, you new here?” You asked her, smiling as you sat next to her and started to swing a bit.
“Hi! Yes, I'm new. Name’s Ellie.” She said shyly. “Well, nice to meet you Ellie, I'm Y/N.” You look back at her with a smile on your face.. She had very beautiful green eyes, that was the first thing you noticed about her. But they were sad ones too. You felt a bit bad for her, she must have been through a lot to get here. She had her auburn hair in a low ponytail with some hair framing her round face and freckles all over it and she also had a scar on her left eyebrow. She was pale which only made her freckles look more angelic. When she looked at you she gave you a shy smile, she wasn't used to people being nice to her.
“So, are you okay? You're all alone out here?” You ask her, trying to be as nice as possible. It was a sunny October day and the leaves were starting to fall from the trees. There was a slight breeze and the day was beautiful. The light hit her eyes perfectly, making them look even more gorgeous than they already were.
“Hum, yeah, I'm fine. Just not used to so many people.” She said fidgeting with her hands. She was wearing a purple, pink and white striped jacket with some worn out jeans and some old red converse.
“Oh, I get it. I can leave if I'm making you uncomfortable.” You say with empathy in your voice. She looked back at you with a small smile. “No, it's okay. It's nice actually, no one else has had the courage to come talk to me yet.” She smiles shyly at you. She felt a bit alone only knowing Joel, Tommy and Maria, so you were a nice change of pace. You two continued to talk and get to know each other more.
“So where are you from?” You asked, looking forward as you swung.
“Hum… Boston actually…” She said quietly. You made a shocked face. “That's really far away from here. The journey must have been really hard.” You say to her in a bit of a worried tone.
“It was okay. Joel was with me the whole way. He’s Tommy’s older brother actually.” She said with a slight smirk. “He wasn't the greatest company through all of it but we got along eventually. He was coming here anyway to be with his brother and brought me along.” She said this with a slight nostalgic tone and a bit sadder at the end. She didn't want to tell you she was immune and that they were actually going to meet the Fireflies down in Colorado.
She was very sad when she woke up in the car with Joel and he told her that they had other immune people, so they didn't actually need her. She thought that maybe she was special. That she was going to save the world, but it turned out to not be the case. She didn't know what Joel had actually done. Ellie had gotten bit when she was hanging out with her friend Riley one day. They both got infected and Riley turned quickly but Ellie didn't. She saw her first love, slowly turning into a monster, it never left her thoughts. Weeks went by and she never turned. The Fireflies found her and wanted to travel her across the country to the only surgeon they knew that could maybe be able to make a cure. Joel took her there, but after that, they came to live here. She had just gotten here a few days ago.
“Really? Tommy’s brother? Didn't know he had one. But I'm glad he does and that he brought you here too.” You smile warmly at her.
She felt a bit of joy after hearing your words. Her only friend was dead and she was somewhere she didn't know but at least it seemed like you were actually being nice to her. She had gone through a lot. They took almost a year to get here. She was happy to be somewhere where people were actually nice for once.
After that day you never went another without seeing each other. You enjoyed being in each other's presence and became best friends very quickly. You had a lot in common. You both liked drawing, you liked singing while she was learning how to play guitar, You both loved comics, and as much as she was obsessed with dinosaurs and space, you were with music and books. Your bond only grew bigger every time you were together. Ellie finally felt like she wasn't alone.
You walked to school everyday together, you did your homework together, played together, felt like you could actually be kids together. It was a cruel and scary world, but now you had each other.
You got to know each other better and she told you she didn't have parents. Her mother had died giving birth to her and her father never really was in the picture so she grew up in the Boston Q.Z. as an orphan, until she came here with Joel. They started to form a father-daughter relationship and she was happy to finally have a family, even if it was a small one. Before the outbreak, Joel used to have a daughter named Sarah, but she had died and he didn't like to talk about her. He taught her how to shoot a gun, how to hunt and how to protect herself from threats.
You spent that Christmas together and Ellie loved to finally have a real Christmas with people she cared about and that loved her. You gave her an old dino plushie you had and she almost cried, no one really ever gave her a present. The only thing she had from her real family was her mother's switchblade, she went nowhere without it. She had never been so happy. Your mother didn't like Ellie very much though. She thought she was a bad influence on you but you didn't care. You hung out with her anyway. You finally had a real friend, and no one would take her away from you.
Tommy and Maria were the unofficial leaders of town, they were the ones who had founded it. It was a beautiful community where everyone contributed in some way. You were able to have electricity by using the dam in the river nearby. You considered yourself really lucky for where you lived. Older people were always telling stories about before the outbreak and right after and how they lost so many people. How they had to survive, hide, use violence even, until they found Jackson.
You were born here and this was normal to you, but some of the stories about before were actually cool. Like people had phones and could call eachother even across the country, shopping malls, supermarkets, museums, cars that actually worked. You had a dvd player and a cassette one too, you had found some old movies that you used to watch with your family on the weekends on an old gray TV. You liked when the teacher talked about how the world worked before, you used to dream about it almost every night.
Ellie was still haunted by the idea that her immunity meant nothing. She used to have a lot of nightmares from all the stuff that she had gone through to get here. All the people that hurt her and that she had to hurt herself. She hated herself for killing people, but they were all in self defense. But still, those ghosts followed her everywhere she went. Except for when she was with you. You made everything better. She was able to be herself with you.
#ellie williams fanfiction#ellie the last of us#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams#ellie tlou#ellie williams the last of us#ellie williams x you#ellie williams x female reader
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Hey can I have Ace with #22 can it be fluffy
Hey!!! I’m so happy you turned this in. I feel like this prompt and Ace were just made for each other. So the wait it finally over. Hope you like it!
Day 14: Ace - Cuddles In Front of the Fire
Before you joined the Whitebeard pirates as the head strategist, you were a simple girl living on a winter island. You loved the snow, but you loved being inside cuddled up in front of the fire with some hot chocolate. You and Ace had been together for about a year and a half now and it was Christmas time, and what type of island were you going to land on tomorrow? A winter island! He asked Whitebeard if you two could have some time to yourselves. Of course, Whitebeard agreed to this. Ace was happy, but he was also worried that Whitebeard thought you two were going to make grandbabies instead of just having a romantic, nostalgic Christmas together.
It was finally the day! As the Moby Dick landed at the shores of this small little snowy island, Ace grabbed your hand, “come on! I have a surprise for you!”
“What is it? Shouldn’t we celebrate Christmas with the rest of the crew?”
“Nope! Pops said I could take my favorite girl somewhere special for Christmas. Just you and me!” He continued to drag you through the white covered town. Every building was small and made of gray stone. Each decorated differently for Christmas, but yet they all seemed to compliment each other perfectly. The town looked like a Christmas card. Eventually Ace stopped in front of one of the little stone buildings. It was a little inn. He opened the door and brought you inside with him. You looked around the small room. It was very simple with dark simple wooden furniture and there were garlands everywhere. In the one corner there was a smaller Christmas tree, which was decorated in shiny red ornaments and a beautiful star on top of the tree. You looked at your shaggy-haired boyfriend with tears in your eyes, “did you do this all for me?”
He scratched the back of his head before speaking nervously, “well, yeah. You're my favorite girl and I wanted us to have a nice Christmas together. I knew you always loved this when you were back home, so I just thought it would be nice. I thought we could cuddle in front of the fire and just enjoy a quiet Christmas.”
You hugged him tightly and he placed a kiss on top of your head as he whispered an I love you. You both walked over to sit in front of the fireplace. Unlike the rest of the woodwork, it was very ornate with intricate carving in the mantle. There was no fire going though. “I got this babe,” he said as he made a finger gun with his left hand and shot flames at the logs. Sadly, he missed and lit the one garland on fire. Thankfully, he was able to extinguish it pretty fast. Finally he safely lit the logs and he sat down next to you. You cuddled into his chest enjoying the warmth emanating from him. He hugged you back, “I love you. Merry Christmas babe.” You smiled looking up at him, “Merry Christmas freckles.”
You two cuddled in front of the fire all night before falling asleep in front of it. You both wished you didn’t have to stop cuddling to get back to the crew.
Please do not copy, modify, translate, repost my writing on other platforms. Comments, reblogs or likes are highly appreciated!
#one piece#trafalgar d vivi#25 days of a one piece christmas#christmas event#christmas#portgas d ace#portgas d. ace#portgas ace x reader#portgas ace x you#ace x you#ace x reader#ace op#ace one piece#one piece x s/o#one piece x reader#one piece x you#one piece x y/n#op x y/n#op x reader#op x you
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Jenna Ortega, Princess AU,
Fateful love
Forbidden love
Soul mates
First love
None of this is real <obviously> this is just a work of fiction.
This is my first post on here, I used write on wattpad!
Warnings: Domestic Abuse, Swearing, mature language, kissing(?) There may be more, im not sure.
The Moon and The Ocean
There's probably going to be spelling mistakes, grammar errors and maybe it's even a confusing plot.
Word count: 8000+
Your days went by dreadfully slow, every moment that blinked was torturous. Your father, the king of some far away land had promised your hand in marriage; You was to be wed the moment you turned a women, your 18th birthday.
It was the day before, you paced back and forth your bedroom. Biting nervously on your nail, your hair lossley falling below your collar bone. Your feet tapped against the hard wood, your room feeling foreign to you. It was strang, marriage was always something you knew would eventually come. However, you hadn't expected your dear father to had given your hand in marriage at the young age of 6. Sickness swelled in your stomach, knowing full well that the man you was to marry was at least triple your age.
The bile rose, aching at your throat. Suddenly, the corset that was tied far too tight on your stomach began to burn, your eyes swelled with tears and you sobbed. You slide down your door, gasping as the tears consumed you whole.
Screaming wasn't something you wanted to do-but you needed to. It was mortifying, not being able to chose who you love. You stared at the floor, the magnificent marble of the ceiling soon catching your tearful eyes. You huff out, tears still falling down your cheeks.
Why couldn't you just be a happy husband-less princess?
But no, your father had screamed practically howled when you suggested a life without a man. He cried out that his own daughter, the hier to the throne had to marry and birth other heirs. You gritted your teeth, deciding this wasn't a battle to lose your head over. Literally.
Slowly, your spirits was brought back to life. Extremely slowly.
You stumbled to your feet, shuffling as the dress below your feet tripped you up ever so slighly.
The door infront of you swung open, in walking the princess Ortega herself. You holted in your stance, taken back by her sudden appearance. You bowed down, your dress once again catching under your feet and making you slip.
"What's with the formalities, Y/L/N?" The princess smiled up at you, offering you a dimpled filled sight. Your stomach swooned, your cheeks blazing a deep red. You too offered a sweet smile, shining your teeth at the women infront of you.
"To what do I owe this pleasure, princess?" You asked, a brow raised. The Ortega infront of you chose to ignore your question, she strode forward walking further into the room.
"I do love your room, it's the most glamorous sight I have been fortunate to see." The princess stated, sliding your closed blinds open. The sun broke through the dark curtains, seeping into your dim room. She smiled at the sight of the castle infront of her, the true beauty that was held within the country you would soon be ruling.
"Isn't it beautiful?" The brunette asked, swooning at the sight of such a kingdom. Your eyes couldn't tear away from the sight of her, she was flawless. You always thought Jenna Ortega was beautiful, naturally perfect; but her freckles was the thing that drove you to insanity.
"Positively." You mumbled, eyes preoccupied with how her eyes lit up, her dimples creating shallow pools on her cheeks. You sigh softly, running your hands up her back.
Sadness dipped into the atmosphere, the truth of what was to come tomorrow. Your birthday would come, your husband would show, you would be married, forever.
"Do you have to?" The princess' voice broke, her eyes no longer holding the sight of the kingdom but now the sight of someone who was about to lose the love of their life.
"I tried, Princess. I tried." The women infront of you gripped the curtains that were held in her hand. She gritted her teeth, not understanding the sudden formalities you had forced on her.
"Why won't you call me by my name?" She asked, turning around to you with an accusing look. You stumbled back, the harshness taking you by suprise.
"We love each other." She whispered, a single tear falling from her chocolate fountain of eyes. You gulped down your pride, your heart shattering with the look she gave you.
Jenna Marie Ortega had stole your heart, took it for herself. She was flawless, funny and most of all your bestfriend. When she confessed under the moonlit tree you honesly couldn't care about the repercussions that would take place for you, the princess who fell in love with another princess.
It wasn't talked about, nor was it a thing you thought plagued most people. You fell in love with a women, and that was bad. She told you it wasn't, she told you that running away would be fun; facing the raft of the people finding out their future queen was anything but perfrect; they'd kill you, murder you in broad daylight infront of hundreds to name and shame your kind.
She wiped away the single tear that treded down her plush cheek, her digit soon wiping away the tears that fell for you. You couldn't face her, too ashamed that you wasn't brave enough to stand up and speak about the love you felt for Princess Ortega.
"We loved each other." She then corrected, her eyes turning a dark cold. Her eyes no longer sparkled when they met yours, they burnt with anger. Princess Ortega already had a well established reputation, she was named the voice of the people.
She stood up against racism, single handedly helped thousands of people who was ruined due to poverty. She was a true princess, a selfless soon to be queen who stopped at nothing.
You however was scared, terrified of what your father would do. Murder? Conversion? Banishment? All of the thoughts riddled you at night.
Every kiss, every touch, every hushed whisper of I love you rang through your head as you stood defeated. You once again reach out and nibbled on your nail, scared of what Jenna would do.
"I love you-" she released a sigh at your confession, her eyes softening at once. She was hesitant, her finger grazing her dress as she reached forward. The princess you fell hopelessly and loyal for came rushing back into her face, a sigh leaving your parted lips.
"Run away with me, please."
The bubbly laugh that sprung out of your mouth was mocking, a pure sign that her request wasn't going to be taken into consideration. Princess Ortega huffed out her chest, hating nothing more than when someone would laugh in her face when she asked them something.
Princess Ortega ran a hand through her curled hair, her nose flaring ever so slightly. She glared at you like you was nothing but a toddler. Her eyes shot to kill, annoyed that she couldn't have what she wanted.
"Why are you laughing." She seethed, her bottom lip trapping in between her teeth. You shuffle on your feet, assuming she was joking. Your mouth fell open, soon closing when the women infront of you stormed closer to the window; in the utmost dramatics.
"I- I thought you was joking." You mumble out. She placed two hands against the pane window infront of her. She was yet to calm down, her breathing staggered and eyes trained to everything but you.
You stood awkwardly in the center of your room, hands gently brushing into your dress due to the build up of sweat. A sigh left your parted lips, the realisation dawning down on you.
"I'll be Queen tomorrow." You offer the brunette into a conversation starter. The Princess' shoulders tensed, her hands gripping into a fist.
"No. You'll be married tomorrow. You'll be some pawn in a game that was meant to defeat a women to ever rule a fucking kingdom without a stupid man beside her!" The women screamed, spit stuttering out of her hung open mouth as she did. Her eyes were blood shot by now, tears forming as anger swelled her short frame. Her fist clenched, so tightly the once was a nice olive colour turned white.
"Jenna-"
"No. Your father promised you to a man when you was 6! Y/N, you was a child and another man came along and picked you. The man you will marry is 50. He was a grown man when he decided you would be his queen." The princess screamed, howling like a banshee. No doubt the guards and maids outside your room heard the argument erupted, their eyes trained to the floor as Princess Ortega released every thought that ran through her mind.
"We can't just change the way the world functions, Princess. That isn't how this stupid game plays out. We had fun, we fell hopelessly in love and you became my world, the moon would speak to me at night- talk about the ocean and I would speak of you, your smile, your laughter, the way you always try to fight. I'm not a fighter, Jenna, I won't lose my kingdom, I won't lose my life because-" the words died, you was left gasping. Your breathing became irregual, struggling to see when the tears began to leak like acid out of your eyes; burning you as they did.
"Because you love a women?" The question lingered in the air, the tears fell from both of your eyes uncontrollably. A seemingly dramatic sight for those who was fortunate to never fall in love with someone who you couldn't have; but to those who knew the pain, felt the burden and the hollowness of how love could drag you into such a dark and unforgiving place. It was tourtous, a wound that never healed, a song that you wished you'd never heard.
"Isn't it."
"My dad-my dad would kill me, he'd have me hung within the hour. I won't die, Jenna. I would rather marry a man, birth kids that I was forced to have than die a pathetic death-I'm not-I'm not dying today, nor another." Your words slipped through your clenched jaw, tears no longer watering down your face; only anger stining into your heart.
"He would never hurt a hair on your head." The Princess infront of you pleaded, her hands drawing small circles on your upper arms. You tensed away from the touch, the mear presence of her burned, it was like a thick fog was casted over you; making you unable to breath.
"I'm scared, I'm scared every day of the week, every waking moment that I breath-the fears consuming, it hurts.-" you turned your back on her, walking towards the desk that was pressed against your wall.
"I refuse to live in fear. If- if I marry him tomorrow I'll have security, I will be queen and I will essentially rule the kingdom therefore the people." You slide into the cushioned chair, sliding down into the hard wooden back of the chair. The cold, and over all hurting sensation brought some sense of peace in your heart that was turning cold quicker than you'd wish.
"You think by ruling what happens to the kingdom you'll be able to make them love you? They love you already, Princess, I love you-" The Princess promised kneeling down infront of you in a disparate attempt of holding out to something that was slipping out of her fingers.
"Tell me you don't love me, tell me you'll marry that man tomorrow with no regret in your heart and ill leave-my father has places I can leave to, I have a safe space were I can be who I truly am without the force of society burning into my soul- I know you don't have that luxury, but just tell me you don't love me." The women's eyes cracked, water still leaking from them. She looked up at you, like a puppy that had just been scolded. Her bottom lip trembled, her teeth not doing much to prevent it. Your hand reach up and wiped away the tears that flowed for your love. Her brown eyes met yours, the chocolate puddle making your whole body set aflame.
It was magical; with one single look you knew, she knew. You two would forever be each others, a secret shared between two souls that feared the unknown. Every whisper, every kiss, every glance, every everything. She was the person you moured for in the darkness of the night, she was the melody that made your heart sing, she was the breath you took everyday in order to see her dimpled smile that sent your body into an up-roar of euphoria.
"Tell me, princess Y/L/N. Say it, say you don't love me, it's okay." The girl lied to herself. She lolled her head, leaning into the warm familiar touch of your hand on her body. You smile at the sight, loving how the princess infront of you always melted due to your touch.
"I cant." You whispered back, your throat burning and aching at the thought of admitting something that wasn't true. "You know that." She shuffled forward, her knees hitting the base of your foot. She leaned up, her nose brushing against yours.
"Because you love me?" She whispered, her breath brushing into your face. You huff, rolling your eyes at her. She giggled into your neck, soon pulling away just to her that confession of yours. "You love me." She no longer questioned it, fully knowing she had you today, tomorrow and forevermore.
"Indeed, Princess. I love you." She hummed, satisfied with the outcome of the heated argument that had just taken place a few moments ago. You lean further down, assuring she didn't strain her neck.
"Do you wish I would say it back?" The women teased, her lips ghosting over your own. Your tongue darted out, damping the skin below the muscle. She looked up into your eyes once again, her eye brow raised ever so slightly. The air blew harsher in a moment, the curtain brushing into your room further.
The wind blew, the scent of Princess Ortega's desired perfume hitting you. Your lungs collapsed, a heavy groan leaving your mouth. The tension brewed in the room, a heat forming on your cheeks as the women infront of you refused to press her lips into your own.
"Princess" you groaned, leaning closer almost to the point of falling. She shuffled further back, falling onto her elbows.
You followed after her, falling onto your own knees as your leaned over her. Your hair fell down your face, falling onto her own. She giggled at the sensation, the feeling of strands of hair against her skin making her laugh.
"May I?" You pressed a kiss to her cheek, assuring she was comfortable with a kiss. The Princess drew her hands to the back of your neck, biting her lip at you.
"You never have to ask, I am yours, my queen." She mumbled, pulling you that little bit closer. Finally, after a restless about of time your lips collided into a swoon worthy kiss.
With one sudden movement the door slammed open..
-----
Dearest Y/N,
It has been far too long since we last spoke, 4 years in fact. I miss our conversation, I miss your laugh, I miss the way we loved. I miss you the most, everything about you. Its nearly your twenty second birthday, I doubt you'll get my letter; since you haven't replied to the last four. I heard you've became a mother, I'm glad your happy, I'm glad you married someone you love. I hope Damien is okay, I hope your mother enjoyed my latest letter. I no longer hate you, but it appears you still hate me. I hope you still talk about me to the moon, as I do to the ocean.
Forever yours,
Your Jenna.
You walk around your kingdom, constantly wearing a smile full of happiness. Your husband Damien- not the man you was supposed to marry, no your father backed out after an argument with your mother. Instead, you was matched with Damien, he was a hopless romantic with a boy-ish grin. He had dazzling green eyes, something you didn't used to love. He had a charming gaze, long hair that you constantly had your fingers tangled in. You fell in love, hopelessly. You once only held love for one person in your life.
Damien held a tight hold on your hand, smiling as your eyes met. He leaned closer- your heart swooned- just like it did whenever you was with Princess Ortegan.
"You look beautiful my queen." The man spoke into your ear, leaving a kiss to your jaw. You giggled, ducking into your shoulders as you blushed. He smiled, your child- Marie- was hung to his hip. You had made it a tradisation ever since you got crowned; to walk through the village, speak to your people before the anniversary of your coronation.
"Mamma." The baby cooed reaching out to hold you, Damien offered you the child, carefully placing her into your hands. The crowd around you awed at the sight of the latest royal family that was caught infront of them. The baby held your hair, loosely brushing the stands in her small hands. She nuzzled her head into your neck, seemingly tired of all of the fuss.
"Are you tired, Marie?" Damien asked, his hand brushing your shoulder. The child nodded, humming as she lolled to sleep in your embrace. You smiled to yourself, carefully walking back to the Palace were you lived; hand in hand with Damien, your daughter tucked into your chest.
-----
"You cannot be serious?" Jenna told you, a smile begging to be played on her lips. You glared at her, chewing at your nails. Jenna immediately slapped away the hand, scolding you. You huff, hiding your blush as she brushed her fingers through your hair.
"My queen." She cooed, her breath brushing over your ear. You giggled, it had just been your coronation, you was officially a queen- without a king.
"I am being serious." You chuckle, feeling Jenna press feather light kisses to your cheek. She hummed, not really paying any attention to what you was saying. You push her away ever so slightly, trying to pry yourself away from her entoxicating lips.
"You'll be a queen without a king?" She once again asked, repeating herself. You nod, exited for what your future holds. She squealed, knowing no one would be able to take you away from her.
"Are you okay my queen?" Your maid- Eliza- asked with worry in her eyes. She was the women who interrupted yours and Princess Ortegas more intimate moments. The younger women looked at you, preparing herself to fetch whatever you desired.
"Why didn't you tell." You whisper to her. You was sat on your couch, which was placed in the drawing room. She looked at you confusing, acting like you was a make-shift medus and had grown snake hair.
"The day before my 18th birthday, you walked in on me kissing Princess Ortega. Why didn't you tell me father?" You finally looked her in the eyes, the women stared at you for a moment. The girl wasn't much younger than you, maybe 21. She watched as your eyes became an ocean, as your voice swelled with tears.
"Because I knew all along, your majesty. I knew you loved Princess Ortega, I- it was just so obvious." The girl explained, her own eyes darting with sadness. You glare at the floor, thinking maybe if you stared hard enough It would create a black whole for you to fall into.
"Was we really that blinded?" You whisper, your words dying as your voice finally gave up-
"Dance with me!" Princess ortega demanded. The rain danced around the two of you, the ocean above you screaming down at the two of you. Jenna began to spin, twirling her drenched dressed around her legs. She stared at you, she reached her finger out and pried it back; urging you to give in. It had only been a few weeks since becoming Queen- you'd already been granted a break. You ran with the princess towards an old cabin on the out skirts of your kingdom, where you could be free.
The rain didn't stop, it began to pour more harshly if anything. Slamming into the dirt below your feet, the trees bent back and forth the wind causing such a fuss.
"In this weather?" You ask, pointing out the obvious problem with the literal sea pouring on you. The Princess infront of you however giggled, running over to you.
Her hands gripped your waist, her baby hairs covering her perfect face. Her lips curved into a smile, her eyes a sweet brown. She giggled once again, tilting her head to meet your lips.
You acted quick, Cupping her chilled cheeks and swayed with her. Your lips never left hers, the smell of her was consuming- fresh maple trees, with a hint of strawberries. Her breath lingered with all different types of fruits, most prominent one being raspberries.
The rain some how began to bleed faster, mocking your act of love as thunder stuck behind you. A near by tree was stricken down due to the bolt.
You and Jenna gasp into each others mouths, but that didn't pry you two apart. You carried on to dance, her fingers brushing through your hair.
"Will you love me forever?" The brunette infront of you shouted over the storm that carried on to block at every bad thought.
"Beyound forever."
Your rage seethed through your veins, your anger swolling you whole as you paced back and forth your garden. Marie was sat down on the blanket, nicely placed by Eliza. Your hands clutched unopened letters, tears burned down your cheek.
"My dear, how has your evening been?" Your husand, the love of your life, the father to your child ask. He walked up to you, wearing smart attir as he gripped your jaw; placing a forced kiss opon your lips.
"What are these?" You thrusted the letters into his open hands. He cupped the paper, shock clearly written on his face. He clenched the one letter, ripping it in half. A sudden side to the man you'd married bled through his transparent persona.
"How dare you." The man screamed, his cheeks flaming red. The letters were tucked into his closet, covered in old clothes he no longer wanted to wear.
"How dare I?" You shouted back, howling as the thought of him betraying you was still hot in your brain. Eliza quickly picked up the little girl that was sat on the green grass, walking off with your daughter.
"I am your king, you had no right to accuse me of such things." The man matched your anger, even daring to strike a swelling smack to your cheek. The smack stung, sizzling with heat as he retracked his hand.
"You're measly the man I married, the person I decided to allow to share the same bed as I. You have no rights to struck me, nor call yourself king." You seeth back. You decided to ignore the throbbing pain that ached your cheek. Damien stumbled back, staring at the floor in guilt.
"She is your past." He expressed, his words coming out unsure, they sounded more like an excuse than anything. You gripped your dress, your knuckles turning white. You knew he wasn't acting normally, he was never an aggressive man.
"She is my world. She is the reason I live, she's the poison in my oxygen, she's the ache in my heart. I loved her the moment i met her, I'll love her until the moment I die. She's with me everywhere I go, she's the shadow I chase when im alone. She's my queen, Princess Ortega is a better person than you'll ever be." You screamed, every thought, ever passing momemts; Princess Ortega was always there. She was your everything, and you couldn't bear the thought of someone keeping you away from her.
"She left you." Damien jolted your memory, remembering the night that still jolted you awake in the crack of dawn.
Damien had swept you off your feet, his stupidly dumb green eyes enchanted you to your very soul. Jenna hated him, absolute despised the man to his core. You didnt love him, he was just a friend.
Your pinky fingers were locked, walking around the ball. The close proximity of the two of you made your locked hands evaporate among the silk of your dress. She flashed you a prize winning smile, offering a hushed "you look amazing."
Your foot trembled, pushing you over ever so slightly. Your whole body lunged forward, Jenna went to reach for you but Damien was already there. He brushed your hair out of the way, flashing his stupidly cheesy grin towards you.
"Are you okay princess?" With one glance Princess Ortega had ripped herself away from you and found herself sat in between her own family.
Throughout the ball you offered her small waves, senting your smile her way. She didn't look at you once, she didn't mutter a single word to you that entire night. When Damien had worked up the courage to ask you to dance you immediately said no.
He nodded, his smile falling. Princess ortega watched, then she watched how you grabbing his hand. You pulled him to the center of the room, dancing along with the violen and cello.
Her face twisted, heat pooling in her chest. Her fingers fiddled with the hem of her dress, debating whether to leave.
"Sister, have you decided whether you'll join me?" The older Ortega boy asked, smiling apon his sister. Jenna looked at him confused, unsure of what he was implying.
"My trip to Europe, the invitation has been extending to my favourite sister." The man was met with a swift punch to his shoulder by his youngest sister. Jenna giggled sending one last look your way; You was dancing, freely without any fear. His hands were politely resting on your sides, still offering you his best smile he could muster. You laughed every time he cracked a joke, after Jenna left for Europe without another word, you accidentally fell in love.
-----
Your feet moved faster than your brain, your heart beat raced. Your eyes scattered around the familiar sight, proudly standing infront of you was Ortega manner. Your fist clamped together, knocking formally.
The old man smiled apon seeing you- randy- he offered you into the house. The warmness of a full house washed over your body, you smiled to nothing. The loudness of clattering and someone talking caught your attention, you dart towards the sound assuming it was your princess.
"Princess Y/L/N?" Mrs Ortega stumbled seeing your sudden appearance. You furrow your eyebrows at her sudden attitude, she glared at the floor. Her voice was stuck, her chest tight with the realisation of what her daughter did.
"She didn't tell you?" Your heart stopped, you could have swore you saw the grim reaper himself. Your eyes grew fuzzy as the older women explained everything. Your chest was tight, anxiety filled your heart. Unbeknownst to you, the Ortega family was fully aware of yours and their middle child's affair.
"She left me?" You gasped out, tears leaking from the source of yours eyes. She embraced you, held you as you screamed for your lost love. The news you had begged to share with Jenna died in your mind, becoming a passing thought
She had left, she has left. She was in some third world country saving the poor, of course she was. You gulped down every tear you pleaded to shed. You somehow stumbled to your feet, sending your goodbyes to Mrs Ortaga.
You fumbled with your foot, falling head first. A strong, muscular hand caught you. The man chuckled, the same man you had dance with all night.
"Prince, h-how are you?" He smiled down at you, lifting you up onto your own feet. You stood awkwardly on the pathway, staring up at the man.
"We must stop meeting like this, Miss Y/L/N." He spoke softly, you nod. If Princess Ortega hadn't have left she would have known about Damien, and how he had agreed to marry you so you and Jenna could forever be together. He shrugged a hand through his hair, awaiting your answer.
"She left." Your heart turned cold. Your eyes no longer felt the need to burn for someone who couldn't even handle one simple dance, you burned for her and she left. His face dropped, riddled with confusion.
"Why? I- I thought she loved you.." He stoked the patch of beard he had under his chin, a puzzled look on his face. You hum, not really caring to waste your breath on someone who clearly didn't care for you.
"I guess she didn't."
"Your highness!" Eliza called out, her hands clutching a bag that you had made a few moments ago. You stormed into your daughters room, collecting all the essentials you'd need to get through the days with a toddle. Marie was none the wiser, happily hung around your neck as you darted around her room.
"Help me, Eliza, I can't stay with that man." You seethed, the memory of you smacking him back and you demanding a separation still hot in your mind. She nodded, stumbling forward in hopes to grap your attention.
"When will you meet her?" Your head whipped towards the question, daggers leaving your eyes and piercing the women infront of you. You stood silent, assuming she had betrayed you too.
"You knew?"
"I- I, I assume Princess Ortega is back? That's why he was so mad? Or has he always been violent?" You release a shaken sigh, dropping your head. Your daughter began to fuss, demanding to be put down. You was scared, you couldn't stay with Damien but you also couldn't leave your daughter.
"Here." Eliza offered her help, picking up your daughter and began to play dolls with the little girl that resembled you, shockingly.
You nod, everything seeming too fast for your brain to catch on to. Your hands thrashed through Marie's things, your feet trodded across the hall towards your bedroom. You stomed around; gathering clothes, Letters, Information you'd need.
Damien was no where to be found, probably at the better end of a whiskey bottle. You found it easier that way, thanking his alcoholic demands for having such a hold on him.
"May I ask you something?" Eliza sheepishly asked, packing the final bag into the trunk of your carriage.
"Yes?"
There was a pause, an undeniable awkwardness within the cramped space. She bit her lip, nibbling ever so slightly on the skin.
"Is she worth it?"
Not even skipping a beat, not even batting an eyelash you nodded, "Yes."
Jenna was worth every tear you shed, every ache you felt, every smile you held, every laughter that bubbled out of your throat. She was the root to everything in your life, whether that be bad or good. She was always behind everything.
You hadn't read the letters yet. He had torn one, one that you hadn't had the knowledge of reading. You knew, whatever she wrote she wrote it for a reason.
"Goodbye, Queen."
"Mother has written, do you wish to know what for?" Jacob, Jenna's older brother asked whilst walking into the drawing room. Jenna hummed, her hands flipping through different pages of her book.
"Queen Y/L/N, didn't know you was leaving." The boys tone was scolding and accusing. Jenna shrank in on herself, her lip between her teeth.
"She fell out of love." She mumbled into her palm, knowing that was only half true. However it wasnt at all true.
"That's not what our mother declares." Jacob carried on. Jenna didn't give the boy the satisfaction of knowing she was dying to know what their mother had written, word for word.
"She chose him."
"She danced with him, that wasn't her declaring her undying love for that fool." Jacob retorted, throwing the paper towards his younger sister. "Shes gone mad without you."
The carriage ride was exhausting, you dreaded seeing your father. He was a strong man that turned sour with his age, he was mean and wouldn't have even cared if you told him the truth; that your husband turned abusive.
Your foot nervously bounced up and down, debating whether to read the letters, they were hundreds and you needed to read them eventually.
Tears openly flowed out of Princess Ortega's eyes, clutching the letter her mother wrote a few days prior. It had been 3 months since leaving, it was hard not to demand her brother to return home. But she suffered through the pain, hoping eventually she'd find a sense of belong; a sense she'd only even found in the arms of you.
The words bled together, her hands tearing the piece of paper into shreds.
Queen y/l/n is engaged, to be wed next week in the halls of belle. Damien was the man's name, charming, she does seem happy, Jenna-
Jenna couldn't bear to read more, her heart already broke and stomped on atleast 12 times already.
"Y/N, we've missed you." Your mother cooed, holding Marie in her hands. The baby giggled, nibbling on her pacifier. She had been teething terribly bad, to the point of tears each and every night.
"Mother, could I trouble you, I need a piece of paper and pen." Your mother nodded, asking her own maid to fetch the demanded things. You sat yourself down on your desk, the same desk that Princess ortega would write random love poems to you, the same desk were you'd kiss each night before she'd have to leave-
My dearest Jenna,
Loving you was probably the most easiest things I'd ever do in my short liven life. I loved you, I loved you until it psychically hurt. Every moon lit date, every dance among the ocean, every song you declared was ours, I always found myself loving you. But,
My love was always not taken serious by you, the constant recurrence I had to send your way just for us to have a normal day was exhausting. You was mess, a mess that I wanted. I danced with Damien because he looked so sad, I laughed at his joke because I was being polite, I stayed with him all night because we had a plan. I was going to marry him but love you, instead you decided to leave me. You left me, with nothing but empty space. I don't forgive you, I don't hate you either. Your the light in my tunnel, the air in my lungs and most famously; The Ocean to my Moon.
Damien stole your letters, I left him. He knew, I think he knew, I'd always love you no matter what.
I loved you the most when you was dancing with the rain singing without shame, I loved you when you broke down in my arms the day I told you I was marrying that old man. I never hated you, because hate was too close to love. I just stopped everything, I went numb because I'd rather lose myself than live with a life were there was no jenna.
I can only hope that we will meet again, maybe under a moon lit night were we dance once again. I'd like to kiss you before i die, maybe express how much I loved you even though you left. But I won't let myself dream anymore, it's painful. I have a daughter now, Her names Marie. I guess deep down i knew you was always the love of my life, my soul mate. She's named after you because I wanted her to be beautiful, to be strong and a fighter just like the women who was supposed to be her mother. I'll leave my seemingly long letter with that, I hope you get this my princess.
I'll love you beyond forever.
Sincerely, yours Y/N.
Jenna found it oddly surreal walking back into her childhood home. The colours were still a warm green, the lights still hung on the walls. Her younger siblings running freely among the grass outside the manner, her nieces and nephews making baby noises as her older sister chats with their mother.
She walked further into the home, sadness dwelling on her due to the fact no one noticed her appearance; she'd been gone for 4 years. Her feet softly padded into the floor, accompanying her mother as she stood on the lawn.
"Evening, Mother." She greeted the older women, smiling as the sun blared unforgiving at them. It was like the weather was controlled by Yours and Jenna's love, when the Sun was out the two of you couldn't have been further apart, when the rain poured down on the earth the two of you was probably found kissing somewhere no one would found you.
"Jenna!" The women gasped, embracing her daughter into a bone crushing hug. The two shared a few moments together, before the nagging need to find out why her daughter had suddenly came home.
"I love the welcome intrusion, but why are you here Jenna?"
Jenna wrote madly on the pieces of paper infront of her, scribbling down every ounce of love that she felt for you. Her brother watched, a scowl on his face.
"Jenna, what on earth are you doing?" The man asked, walking towards his sister in hopes to read what she was writing. The girl shooked away from him, hissing at the thought anyone but you would read what she needed to say.
"Writing."
Jenna needed to hear of you, she needed to know you was okay and that you still felt atleast something for her. She wrote every pained thought she felt, every sadned question that aired her brain. She knew you was marrying Damien, she knew you wasn't hers anymore. But still, the thought of you forgetting her was enough to drive her into insanity.
Word after word, page turned into pages until she finally had a book.
Jenna stared at her mother's question, she found herself wearing a smile mixed with blush.
"Queen Y/L/N, replied."
————–
Eliza carefully tied the lace on your corset. The annual ball was today, the anniversary of your coronation. You impatiently bounced your left foot, chewing on your nail like you did many years prior. But things were different. Next to you, as beautiful as ever stood your daughter. And there wasn't no Jenna to push away your bad habits.
"I'm dreadfully tired." You mumbled, hoping you could excuse yourself early to the party. Even though you was still well into your youth, days always seemed to drag. Eliza hummed, her hands dragging once up your whole back before leaving the corset with that.
The dress was soon fitted, sliding down your frame. You smiled at yourself, seeing what stood infront of the mirror. You may not have achieved much in your life, but you was sure as hell proud to be able to call Maria your daughter. She was playing quietly in the corner of your bedroom, fiddling with letters Princess Ortega made you when you two were only girls.
"All done, Queen."
—————
As always, your night was dreadfully long. It was brain numbing to be witness of the true mindless People of your country. The Ortega family arrived late, Jenna a no show like the current balls your family had held.
You sometimes caught yourself wondering if Europe was all it seemed to be. Surely it wasn't that interesting to invest years of your life to travel it.
In your pitiful state, you felt the damness of the atmosphere shift; water began to positively pour down into your kingdom, drouding out all thought that casting into your soured mind. Jenna getting lost during the rain, forgetting every pained image you had of her. Your feet dangled off the edge of the hill, below it was a drop worthy enough to kill. You often spent your evenings casted to witness the wildlife that traveled through the vally like state. Along side the hill stood a tree, the same tree that held many feelings in your heart.
Your bear feet had trickles of water droplets falling off them, along with the edge of your jaw and tip of your nose. It was enough to bring a mad person to sanity, the feeling of rain falling onto your tensed shoulders.
Everything was corrupted with the sound of the rain, the weather suddenly growing harsh and unforgiven with each moment you stayed painfully unaware of the brunette who chased down each and every one of your staff in hopes to find your whereabouts.
"Have you seen the Queen?" Jenna breathed out, her pants clouding her speech ever so slightly. The man that cooked you dinner shrugged, not really caring for the women infront of him. A strained groan left the princesses lips, clutching her hands together with a sob. You hadn't realised the time that drifted, it had been two hours since you left your own party.
Jenna left the kitchen, sprinting to your bedroom. Funny enough, almost like time had stopped all together when Jenna entered your bedroom eveything was the same. Everything in the same place, the only different was the sleeping girl that laid in the mist of your pillows and blankets.
Jenna gasped, her heart exploding. She was identical to you when you was a just a child, her hair scattered across the pillow and cheeky plushed.
"Princess Ortega" Eliza bumped chest with the frantic girl infront of her. Jenna was untameble, her eyes wide like a serial killer. She panted, her lungs seizing at the thought of being too late.
"Where- where is she? Where's my Y/N?" Your name rolled off her tongue, like it was meant to be. She wasn't ashamed to show her face anymore, she wasn't paralysed with crippling jealousy like she used to be. She wanted what's rightfully herself, she came for a reason and every moment of her passing years dragged all due to one reason. You was no where to be seen, you became a stranger and she'd be damned if your love story didn't end with the two of you hopefully in love with no fear in your heart and a house fill of laughter.
"Shes- she never told me. She said she's leaving to her safe space." Eliza stuttered, shifting on her feet at the sudden desperation that stormed Jenna's features.
Jenna didn't reply, she hurried off. Her feet slammed, claiming down onto the carpeted wooden floor, she barged past people ignoring their cries of ignorance. They didn't know why princess Ortega was harshly running through the halls, nor why she was in such a panic.
Jenna finally stumbled towards the tree where you and her first kissed. You two was 16, she had finally admit her deepest secret that led to you sharing yours.
"I..I think I'm in love you." Jenna sheepishly admit, her face a blushing mess. The moon lit night did wonders for her beauty, the moon truly reflection the astonishing view she could be. You was so caught up with her freckled nose that you almost forgot to reply.
Your confession was caught in your lips. Jenna was sat infront of you, waiting for an answer. She was smiling, almost like she knew you was desperately in love with her too. It was obvious, the love you two shared wasn't a secret. It was painfully clear to anyone with a sense of mind, no friends long for one another like you and jenna did.
"I know I love you Jenna. There isn't a doubt in my mine, you're my ocean." Confidence washed over you, your chest growing in size with the amount of oxygen you took in as you breathe.
Jenna giggled, her hand dragging closer to your cheek. She cupped your face ever so slightly, placing the other on the floor to stabilise her. She leaned forward, scared to fully commit the sin she wanted to destroy.
"Kiss me."
The way Jenna ran towards the moon lit tree was supernatural, she didn't stop when a seizing pain took over her lower stomach. She treded through the untamed grass, storming faster when she saw the faint sign of someone sitting down by the hill.
"Y/N!" Jenna howled, her words echoing through the air. She shuffled, huffing out in pain when the shadow didn't turn around. Biting down on her lip she ran faster, her thighs burning and the bottom of her dress tearing.
"Y/N!" The grass sqelched below her, the mud splattered up the better half of her legs. She ignored the uncomfortable feeling off the thick muck intruding her skin, knowing you was only a few minutes away.
Just as God frowned down on the two of you, the weather began to grow worse. God upping his game, the rain began to pound, slamming into Jenna's skin leaving harsh marks in result. The rain turned into thick clumps of ice, then a shed of hailstones. A sharp enough peice of ice slashed the cheek of Jenna, she hissed holding the skin as blood began to trickle down her flesh.
"Queen!"
Thunder crashed down on the tree standing right beside you. Your body jolted awake, the lighting scaring the life out of you. Your hand clamped around the fabric around your chest, breathing becoming labored and strained.
"Holy-" Your whole body was forced side ways, your arms swinging ever so slightly. You gasped, someone coming into contact with your face. The strangers hands cupped your cheeks, forcing you to look at them.
Standing infront of you, as beautiful as ever stood your Jenna. She was wearing a shy smile, her hair stuck to her head. The water droplets dribble down her face, leaving her a mess that sent yout into a coma. She was ethereal, extremely elegant.
The years you'd spent apart felt like nothing anymore, like the gap in history was drawn out of proportion and it hadn't been four years but a mear few days. Jenna looked exactly the same, maybe even gain more worshipable freckles that would add to your on going count.
"Princess Ortega-" Your words were muffled, Jenna's lips crashing into yours. The lack of people around left the both of you reckless, a slave to the desire that drilled into your bodies at the lack of being near each other in far too long.
"You once promised me that you'd love me forever." Jenna gasped, the lack of air still evident with her struggle with breathing. Her hand never left your face, determined to keep you as close as possible.
"I believe I said beyond forever." You reminded her, smiling with the same cocky over confident smirk that made Jenna want to rip your head off. Instead of rolling her eyes, slapping your arm or even straight up leaving like she once did after seeing the sight she pulling you closer to her. Her lips crashed into yourself, your hands finally coming to life to hold her face too.
"Do you intend to keep your promise?" Jenna asked, pulling away from your lips. A stern groan left yours, a plead of objection.
"Only if you intend to extend the same sentiment my way."
She smiled, both of you giggling like it was second nature. The weather was yet to seize, only growing more fearful.
"I'll love you until humanity crumbles and the sun explodes into nothing."
The Ocean will always have its Moon. And you will always have your Jenna
#jenna ortega#jennaortega#lgbt#scream#tara carpenter#Lorraine day#xmovie#wlw#gxg#jenna ortega x fem#jenna ortega x you#lesbian#bi#Spotify
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Chapter one: Cygnus
A/n: I hope you enjoy this, and please let me know how you felt about this chapter.
(Small update this was slightly revised without a writing aid.)
Chapter warning: self-deprecation, talks of virginity, some angst. Mentions of divorce, marriage, and military
Series masterlist // Main masterlist
I just couldn't believe it... My best friend just got married, and here I was sitting in this fold-out chair around the fire pit at a get-together, holding a glass of Moscato d'Asti. I should be happy for Samantha and Eli. I'd known them my whole life, and of course, I loved the updates that she sent her dad and others. But here I am, just a post-grad living with my parents while Samantha and Eli are in Italy on their honeymoon.
I watch the flames flicker and crackle. Chuck, the German shepherd, knudges my foot. That is all it takes to get me out of my thoughts. Chuck holds a ball in his mouth, his tail wagging slightly as he tilts his head. Chuck's eyes are the epitome of expressiveness, as if he holds all his feelings in the hues of his puppy dog's eyes, just like his owner's eyes.
I look up and around to see what the others are doing.
Sam, Bucky, and my father Steve are talking. My mother and Sam's wife share a conversation separately.
I decided to place my wine down and sneak off out of the fenced yard, with Chuck the shepherd following me up into a large field up behind the limewashed house. The hills roll for miles, some tree lines scattered across the valley, patches off it darkened by the banks of creeks, but it wasn't the view that took my breath away as I threw the ball for Chuck.
It was the stars; they were beautiful. The only light that wasn't from the moon came from the house at the bottom of the hill. Eventually, I sat down in the grass, and Chuck lay beside me.
I was so lost in thought that I didn't hear the footsteps coming up behind me, and only out of my peripheral view did I see him sit down beside me, but I still didn't look at him. I kept my eyes on the stars.
"That star right there is Vega." He starts his voice, gruff but not harsh; he sounds calm. "Below it is Deneb, it uh makes. " There's a slight pause—no more than a nanosecond—but I picked it up. "Cygn-the Swan," he cuts off the original name he was going to say. I move my head in his direction, but my eyes linger on Cygnus for a moment before my eyes meet his.
As I look at him, all I can think about is how beautiful he is. I shouldn't be thinking of him this way. He's my dad's best friend. I've known him for the better part of my life.
But how does the moonlight refract off his blue orbs so beautifully? The way it highlights the pale skin while keeping his faint freckles that faintly dust the bridge of his nose, fading into the apple of his cheeks, is so prominent, unlike how the sun fades out the star-like marks. But soon, my thoughts yet again fade into how I'm falling behind all of my friends. Everyone I've ever known is falling in love, and I'm falling behind—behind on a relationship, behind on my life, behind on losing my virginity. God, I would have been behind on my first kiss if it wasn't for that game of spin the bottle in my senior year of high school.
The bad part is that he can read me like a book, whether I like it or not. "What's on your mind, kiddo?"
God, why does his voice have to be that caring and his eyes that gentle? "You've been quiet all night. That's not like you, sneaking off, especially before finding a way to tell Sam and I your newest joke." Again, in a way, I find myself asking why Bucky Barnes has to be so perceptive.
"It's nothing, Buck," I say, but I just could tell that my tone wasn't cutting it.
"No, it's not." He doesn't sugarcoat his words. "Somethings bothering you, Dol-Kiddo; you can talk to me. You can always talk to me." He cuts himself off again. I knew what he was going to call me, and I couldn't help but wish he'd call me Doll and not just Kiddo.
We sit in static silence for a while before I say anything.
"I just feel as if I'm falling behind." I'm messing with my fingers as I speak.
"You're taking it all in," he pauses. "I wish I had taken it all in.".
I take in his words before responding, "You do?" I know about his marriage to Dotty, the military, and then some of the divorce. "Yeah, looking back, I wish I would've," he replied to my question before I could even take in what I asked. "I think if I took my time with all the big things, I would've been way happier than I was. That's in the past. I rushed and regretted it, but there's nothing that I can do about it now."
When I glance over to him, he is looking up at the stars and resting back on his elbows. He starts to speak again as I face him. "I don't know what's on your mind, and I sure as hell can't tell you that I do, but whatever it is, take your time."
"If I take my time, I'm sure I'll die a virgin."
I wish I could've stopped the stupid words that spilled out of my mouth, but it happened so quickly that I didn't even register what I had said until I saw the expression on his face.
"I'm so sorry." Oh, um," "I didn't mean it." "No, it's ok." We went back and forth for a few brief moments.
"We should probably head back before they notice we're gone." I start to say, It's almost like I didn't hear what I'd said, but as I start to stand,
"I could fix that." That stopped me dead in my tracks. "Y/n.. shit," he breathes in. "I didn't mean to say that," he says, starting to ramble as he stands. "God, Y/N, I'm so sorry; I didn't mean to."
"You really mean that." I didn't even hear him start to ramble. All I could hear was I could fix that, repeating in my head—my thoughts.
"Yes, Y/N, yes, I really apologize for saying that." He touched my arm briefly, and that snapped me out of my thoughts.
I look up at him, confused as to why he is apologizing. I arch an eyebrow. "So you're saying you'd take my virginity? I'd let you." I crane my neck back but then briefly look at the group's near the firepit, making sure nobody has glanced over.
It seems Bucky has the same idea, but he looks back at me, his eyes blown wide and his eyebrows raised. "What?" He sounds skeptical, but also like he's playing off the fact that he didn't hear what I said.
I match his tone and parrot his "What?" We stared at each other for a few moments.
"Y/n, if you're just pulling my leg, tell me, but don't joke about that shit," Bucky breathes out.
"I'm not joking." My tone is much quieter. "Before you say anything," I pointedly say, "I'm not a kid anymore. Buck, I can't stand being treated like one" or called one, but I'd never say that to his face, "especially because I'm not experienced." I use the palm of my hand to rub my eye.
"Believe me, sweetheart, I know, I know," he says, his tone gentle as his eyes try to catch mine as he speaks. "We can talk about this later. It's getting late, and I'm sure your folks want to go home."
"You promise we'll talk?" My tone clearly holding disbelief.
"I promise."
#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x reader#james bucky barnes#james bucky buchanan barnes#marvel#mcu x reader#husband!bucky#dbf!bucky
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venor (final) | kth + jjk
The barista at the university’s café keeps telling Jungkook not to come back, but Jungkook is too busy daydreaming about kissing the beauty marks on his face to be paying attention to his warnings.
○ Pairing: Tiger!Taehyung x Bunny!Jungkook
○ Rating: Explicit/18+
○ Genre: Hybrids, predator/prey, college au, strangers to lovers, slow burn, fluff, light angst, eventual smut
○ Word Count: 5,064
○ Warnings: Scenting, lots of kissing and happy crying, gross cute romance and all that other annoying stuff
○ Notes: It's the end of an era, my friends. I promised a Bestie Who Must Not Be Named that I'd write an epilogue, so technically this series isn't 100% over. I hope you had fun with it! And thank you to everyone who was so kind to me as we went on this unique little journey together 💜
○ Post Date: April 21, 2024
○ Masterlist | AO3 Cross-Post
○ What was Jai listening to? The series playlist
Series Masterlist
Jungkook and Taehyung wait until they finish their final projects and exams before visiting Taehyung's family home. As much as a getaway trip, no matter how short or ordinary, would help alleviate Jungkook's end-of-the-year stress, his commitment to his studies, and his fear of disappointing his parents force him to focus on his studies. Exercising helps, especially when he convinces Taehyung and Yoongi to tag along, but most days near the end of the semester, Jungkook spends in the library or in class.
When Jungkook submits the last project due, the mobile app he spent the whole semester designing, he feels like his brain dribbles out of his ears. With final presentations and exams now over, they have the freedom to do as they please in the last few days before they must leave the dorms for winter break. He's lucky he doesn't have to drive to Taehyung's house, even though it's a short trip.
"Jiae is still in school, but my appa should be home," Taehyung explains, keeping his eyes on the road as he drives.
"Where did you say she's studying?"
"New York University. I've never been to the United States, but she likes it for the most part. She said the city is dirty, though."
Jungkook watches Taehyung smile as he shares a story about his sister's first time seeing a rat scurry across the city streets. Without a sibling, Jungkook doesn't know what it's like to share a life with someone for so long and then be separated by so much distance. There's love in how Taehyung talks about Jiae; Jungkook can feel it. Taehyung also experiences a little bit of joy in knowing his sister has been chased by rats, and Jungkook supposes that's just how it is being an older sibling.
When school isn’t in session, Taehyung stays with Jiae and their father in the home where the children grew up. It’s a small villa in a quiet neighborhood far enough away from downtown Seoul that Jungkook almost feels like he’s back in his own town, free from the bustling city and the hassles that come with it. The villa is well-maintained but modest and home to four families, with the Kim family occupying one of the apartment units on the second floor. The building is cute from the outside, not as big and intimidating as the apartments Jungkook imagined in the city, and a few of the nerves jittering through his body calm down.
Taehyung finds street parking nearby so they don’t need to walk far in the cold. Just like the end of the semester, winter descended on Jungkook quicker than he expected.
In the villa’s compact front yard, a few young children bundled up in thick coats, scratchy scarves, and winter hats too big for their heads build miniature snowmen. Feline tails whip out from two of their coats, and another child has sparkly olive scale splotches on his cheeks like freckles.
“Taehyungie hyung!” squeals one of the children when Taehyung leads Jungkook up the front steps.
Once the other two children notice Taehyung, they fumble in the snow, knees lifting high to jump over the lumps of snow they’ve pushed together. They’re adorable, even more so when the three crash into Taehyung, clinging to his legs and tugging on his gloved hands.
“Hey kids,” Taehyung pats each child on the head with the hand that isn’t being pulled nearly to the ground by one girl.
“When is Jiae noona coming back?” the little boy demands, making Taehyung frown.
“I come home for the first time in months, and you want my sister instead?”
“We missed you too, oppa,” one of the girls insists with wide eyes that remind Jungkook of how he looks when he’s trying to get someone on his good side. He can’t help but giggle over it, and the sound alerts the children to the fact that he’s there, patiently waiting on the front steps behind Taehyung.
“Hello,” the little girl hanging on Taehyung’s arm swings her body around to look at Jungkook. “Who are you?”
“That’s my boyfriend, your Jungkook oppa.”
“You have a boyfriend, Taehyungie oppa? Did your appa say that you can have a boyfriend?”
With his hands on his hips, Jungkook turns to Taehyung, giving him an expectant look that mirrors the three children's expressions.
“Well, Tae, did your appa permit you to have a boyfriend?”
“Bun, not you, too,” Taehyung groans as he tries shaking off the children.
“Oh my gosh! He’s a bunny! Look at his ears!”
“Come on, guys. It’s cold.” Taehyung grabs Jungkook’s bicep and pulls him forward as the children rush to cling onto Jungkook instead.
Shouting over each other, the children demand that Jungkook remove his winter hat to show off more of his ears and demonstrate if he can jump really high. Their silly questions are endearing, but Jungkook’s nose is frozen, and he grows more nervous with each step he climbs to reach the villa’s front doors.
“Go back to your snowman.” Taehyung shoos the kids away while he holds the door open for Jungkook. “You’ll see Jungkook later.”
“Bye hyungs, bye oppas!” the children call out, fumbling over each other to move out of the way when Taehyung tries to usher them from the door.
Despite Taehyung’s grumblings, his affection for the children is evident by how sweet and patient he is with them. Jungkook hasn’t thought much about children. He knows his parents expect grandchildren, especially since they only have Jungkook to provide them, but he always saw parenthood as a far-off concept not worth worrying about in his youth. Seeing Taehyung interact with the neighborhood children makes Jungkook consider that, perhaps, he could spend a little time thinking about it more than he has in the past…
“My appa did give me permission to have a boyfriend, by the way,” Taehyung says with a silly smile as he loops his arm through Jungkook’s to lead him down the hall once they’ve reached the second floor.
“Oh, good. What would we have done if he hadn’t?” Jungkook smiles, too, just as goofy.
“Break up, I guess?” Taehyung offers, laughing when Jungkook stops in the middle of the hallway to stomp his foot in frustration.
Taehyung is obviously joking; Jungkook can’t imagine him ever asking for permission to do anything, not that he’s the type of kid to go against his parents at every turn. Something tells Jungkook that Taehyung’s mother encouraged his free spirit rather than trying to stamp it down. Perhaps some of that has rubbed off on Jungkook, too.
“You didn’t even formally ask me out!” Jungkook complains.
Squeezing Jungkook’s bicep, Taehyung tugs on him gently. “I totally did!”
“When?!”
Taehyung removes his gloves to input the apartment unit’s code. His hat covers his ears, but Jungkook can tell that they twitch under it just as his tail flicks out to smack Jungkook on the thigh. He’s so cute that Jungkook thinks he might genuinely die over it one day. How can he possibly withstand this type of cute aggression for the rest of his life? Because that is what he wants, to be with Taehyung until the end, even if it’s too early to say such a thing.
“I was nervous, okay,” Taehyung presses his shoulder against the door to give it a little push as he opens it. “Just saying it seemed easier than asking. Besides, I knew you wanted it, too.”
Winking, Taehyung gestures for Jungkook to enter the apartment first and grins when he notices Jungkook’s bright pink cheeks. Ridiculous. Taehyung is ridiculous. The only reason Jungkook is willing to let this slide is because Taehyung does get nervous when he’s put on the spot, as Jungkook quickly learned during their final presentation for their Art History class. Standing at the front of the lecture hall, Taehyung had forced his tail through his belt loops so it wouldn’t nervously swish back and forth and started off the presentation with wide eyes pleading for Jungkook to take the lead, but it went well.
The Kim residence reminds Jungkook of Taehyung’s dorm room and his father’s restaurant. It is bright and nature-toned, with plants in every corner and large windows providing natural lighting. It isn’t perfect, but it’s lived in, and Jungkook prefers that over something so minimalist that it’s sterile. Taehyung kicks his boots into the corner of the entryway and tosses his coat on the kitchen table as he walks past, meaning Jungkook should follow his lead.
“So it’s just you, your appa, and your sister?” Jungkook asks.
“Yup. It’s kind of small for three adults, but as a kid, it felt huge.” Taehyung shrugs. “We’ll both be out of the house soon, anyway.”
Jungkook folds his outerwear and neatly places it on the kitchen table, trying not to take up too much space. He’s hesitant about taking off his scarf. The bruise Taehyung left Jungkook when he bit his neck still hasn’t entirely disappeared, but Jungkook concludes that it would be more suspicious to keep his scarf on inside than to have splotchy skin.
“Your appa will be so lonely…” Jungkook looks around, taking note of the little pieces of Taehyung and Jiae scattered around the house — Taehyung’s pottery and Jiae’s soccer trophies. Recently, Jungkook has learned that both Kim children are exceptional athletes.
“Eh, he’ll be fine,” Taehyung says, intertwining Jungkook’s fingers with his. “I’ll give you a tour.”
It’s a bit of “organized chaos,” as Taehyung calls it. Clothes are strewn around the apartment, draped on the backs of the kitchen chairs and the arm of the living room couch. The whiteboard calendar on the fridge still reads “November” despite it being the beginning of December now, and there are kitchen appliances everywhere, including niche ones Jungkook can’t name.
“Appa is somewhere around here…” Taehyung thinks aloud, “Might be on the roof, though. There’s a garden up there. The one I told you about.”
Taehyung’s mother’s garden. Jungkook nods, but he doesn’t interrupt Taehyung as he shows off the chaotic apartment, even jiggling the doorknob of his sister’s room hard enough to force it open so they can take a peek at the disaster of boy band posters and too much pink.
“She’s such a girl,” Taehyung teases before ushering Jungkook down the hall to his bedroom. “At least she gets to keep her room, though. Appa turned mine into a fucking office.”
The last room on the short but thorough apartment tour is Taehyung’s, which is more like an office than a bedroom. It seems that Taehyung’s furniture—a bed, dresser, and nightstand—has been arranged in one corner to free up space for a desk, bookshelf, and filing cabinet that wouldn’t fit anywhere else in the apartment.
“Why does he need a filing cabinet? Who keeps paper documents anymore?” Taehyung shuts the bedroom door behind them.
When Taehyung turns around, Jungkook feels a shift in the energy between them. Having been uncharacteristically talkative, Taehyung suddenly grows quiet.
“You didn’t put your backpack down,” Taehyung notices with a frown.
Jungkook squeezes his backpack straps and shrugs, hoping Taehyung’s predator hybrid senses don’t ruin everything by noticing his nervousness. He’s trying to be chill, just as he tried when he first met Taehyung. It hadn’t worked then, and it probably won’t work now.
“I, um…” Panicking, Jungkook looks for a distraction, not ready to let Taehyung know why he still has his backpack with him. “Didn’t you say you wanted to give me something?”
Eyes widening, Taehyung rubs the back of his neck and averts his gaze. Why are the two of them being so awkward right now? It catches Jungkook off guard, making his chest tighten and his heart feel as though it’s being crushed by his ribcage.
“Tae—”
“Can you sit on the bed, please?”
Nodding, Jungkook sits on the edge of Taehyung’s bed, thinking Taehyung will follow him. Instead, Taehyung squats in front of the old wooden dresser. He pulls out the bottom drawer and looks through the clothing, no longer neatly folded, as he pushes it to the side. Whatever he’s looking for is buried deep in the back of the drawer beneath cable-knit sweaters and flannels.
“I wanted to keep it safe,” Taehyung mumbles once he pushes the drawer shut.
In Taehyung’s hand is a small pouch of blush velvet that matches the shade of pink blooming across Jungkook’s cheeks. Shy embarrassment makes his upper body feel hot. Though Jungkook was excited about the gift when he first learned of it, the reality of being presented with it is nearly too much for his little bunny heart to bear. With a frenzied heart, he takes the pouch from Taehyung, and his breathing stutters when their fingers brush, as though it’s the first time they’ve ever touched.
“I hope you like it,” Taehyung says softly, and Jungkook thinks he might explode.
Undoing the tie at the top of the pouch, Jungkook lets the contents inside slip out and fall into his hand. Rose gold and cold against his skin, the expensive bracelet shines in the natural light bathing Taehyung’s bedroom. It’s a simple gold band that comes together at the top of the wrist where the tiger-shaped clasp is. Decorated with sparkly white diamonds for eyes, the bracelet shimmers when Jungkook turns it to examine every little detail.
“It was my eomma’s. She didn’t wear it a lot, mostly just for fancy things. But she gave it to me when she… Well, she said I should keep it for someone special.”
“It’s beautiful,” Jungkook murmurs, too afraid to speak louder because he can already feel a lump growing in his throat.
Taehyung reaches out to take the bracelet. He turns it so Jungkook can see what’s engraved into the inner part of the bracelet.
“I found a jewelry shop that does engravings, so I got our names…” Taehyung’s face turns bright red, and his tail flips between his ankles faster than Jungkook has ever seen. “I don’t know if you noticed, but I’ve been… ah, fuck , why is this so hard.” He exhales through pursed lips, making a silly sound when his lips flutter. “I’ve been courting you, and I’m supposed to give you something really nice at the end to ask if you accept me, okay? That’s what I’m doing. So. Yeah. That’s all.”
Thrusting his arm, Taehyung holds the bracelet for Jungkook to take back.
Taehyung never formally asked Jungkook to date him, but Jungkook knows that this means something more than just a silly title for a young relationship. Although prey hybrids have different customs, it’s easy to see how important this moment is for Taehyung. He’s unbelievably agitated. Not once has his tail calmed down, and now his hands tremble enough for him to shove them into the back pockets of his jeans.
Conversely, Jungkook’s infatuation makes him burn with an eagerness he’s never felt. He can’t help but smile, even when Taehyung frowns, and it feels good because Jungkook knows Taehyung well enough that he can tell the frown is because Jungkook has yet to say anything. Does he accept Taehyung? What a silly question!
“Tae,” Jungkook begins and thinks he can genuinely feel Taehyung grow tense from how suffocating the room is, “I would have accepted you with just the striped donuts. This is… this is more than I could ever imagine, Tae. I accept you, but I don’t know if I can accept something so special to your eomma.”
Shaking his head, Taehyung sits down next to Jungkook. He takes Jungkook’s face in both hands to slowly rub his thumbs across his cheeks, gathering the tears that stain them.
“You’re special, bun. She would’ve loved you. Probably more than she loved me.”
“Shut up, that’s not true.”
“It is, I swear! I gave her so much grief. You’re literally perfect.”
Jungkook’s giggle sounds wet and stuffy. He shivers as Taehyung pulls him against his chest so he can tuck his face against Taehyung’s shoulder.
“Baby, why are you crying?”
Jungkook tries answering Taehyung, but his words get muffled and lost, and he can hardly put the scrambled mess together in his own head. It takes a few minutes, but he eventually stops crying. It helps that Taehyung eases the backpack straps off Jungkook’s shoulders so he can rub his back in soothing circles. He hums a gentle purr and plants little kisses atop Jungkook’s head until Jungkook finally pulls away to look at him with glossy eyes.
“You’re really sweet, Tae,” Jungkook says with a soft smile that grows larger when Taehyung tries to look away from him. “You want to act like you’re not, but you are.”
“I’m alright, I guess.”
“You’re lovely.”
Taehyung’s ears flatten against his head, and he sticks out his tongue, reaching for Jungkook’s hand to squeeze it.
“Can I put it on you?” Taehyung takes the bracelet and clasps it around Jungkook’s wrist. It fits well, not too tight, and it doesn't slip down his forearm.
Jungkook can’t stop thinking about how pretty it looks and how important it is for him to keep it nice. He’ll cherish it for the rest of his life. This gift is not only a declaration of Taehyung’s love but also demonstrates the level of trust that Taehyung has in Jungkook to keep his mother’s beloved possession safe.
Taehyung rubs his wrist against Jungkook’s, scenting him before he pulls back so they can both admire how the bracelet looks on Jungkook. A thick band of rose gold, it’s pretty but isn’t dainty, instead solid and bold. Jungkook knows he won’t wear it always; he’ll be afraid to. Perhaps he’ll wear it on the days he wants to feel Taehyung’s love the most, so his love can be a tangible pressure on his wrist, pressed to one of the points of his heartbeat.
“I love you,” Jungkook whispers against Taehyung’s lips when he kisses him. He loves hearing Taehyung purr when he unexpectedly initiates a kiss, and he loves feeling the warmth of Taehyung’s hands on his body.
“I love you too, bun,” Taehyung whispers back, but he speaks into the corner of Jungkook’s jaw, then nips at each faded hickey down his neck. “Are you gonna tell me what’s in your backpack now? Or do you wanna keep stalling? I could come up with some ideas…”
“Taehyung.” The scold doesn’t mean much when Jungkook digs his fingers in Taehyung’s hair to hold him close as he scents him.
“Come on, baby. What are you hiding from me?”
Of course, Taehyung sees right through Jungkook and catches on to what he’s doing. It should be embarrassing, but Jungkook is too drunk on the feeling of Taehyung’s lips against his throat to care that he’s the most obvious person in the history of the universe. It doesn’t matter anyway. Jungkook has no reason to lie or hide things from Taehyung.
Though this is at least a little bit serious — in a good way, but still…
“How do you know I’m hiding something?” Jungkook stalls just like Taehyung guessed he would, though not in the way Taehyung might want.
Rather than respond, Taehyung pokes Jungkook on the tip of his nose. Like Taehyung has hit a magic button, Jungkook immediately scrunches his nose and giggles when Taehyung kisses the tip of it.
“Suyun told me you were courting me,” Jungkook admits shyly as he drags his backpack into his lap and unzips it.
“Of course she did.”
Jungkook buzzes with excitement even as Taehyung pouts. He holds all wiggles in, though. He can’t afford to have Taehyung teasing him during such a brave moment. Instead, he focuses his energy on not growing too nervous.
“Close your eyes,” Jungkook commands. He stares blankly at Taehyung until he follows his instructions, unwilling to tolerate Taehyung’s cheekiness when it gets in the way of an important moment.
Once Taehyung has obeyed him, Jungkook pulls out a thin, rectangular frame from his backpack and places it in Taehyung’s lap.
“Okay, you can open them now.”
When Taehyung saw Jungkook’s half-finished portrait, he’d sucked Jungkook off so good that Jungkook allegedly passed out. Jungkook didn't want to make any assumptions, and he’s still nervous from being in Taehyung’s dad’s apartment, so he tried not to imagine what Taehyung’s reaction would be after seeing the finished product.
“I know it’s not as fancy or as special as your eomma’s bracelet, but—”
Jungkook quiets when Taehyung presses his finger to his lips and shushes him while his amber eyes scan over the artwork.
“Baby, respectfully, shut up.”
The snort that comes from Jungkook is uncharacteristic. It feels like a Yoongi thing Jungkook must have picked up in the months they’ve lived together. Taehyung pays him no mind, though. He holds the frame up to admire the print. It’s colorful, glossy, and perfectly matted because Jungkook asked one of the digital photography students at their university to help him with it. The girl knew Taehyung; she swore to keep the print a secret and didn’t even charge Jungkook for help. That might be a testament to how sweet Jungkook is, but it could also indicate just how personable Taehyung is, that people are willing to do kind things for him without anything in return.
“Bun,” Taehyung says after spending a quiet moment with the portrait, “Please don’t downplay yourself like that ever again. You are an amazing artist. Your talent, god, bun… your talent is unreal.”
Taehyung is almost too serious when he speaks, and Jungkook feels the looming need to scoot away from him. He doesn’t, though, because he knows this is Taehyung working through his intense feelings for Jungkook, feelings that his predator hybrid instincts don’t know what to do with. Neither Taehyung nor Jungkook is hardwired for a relationship like theirs.
“Thank you.” Jungkook runs his fingertips along Taehyung’s clenched jaw and watches the tension slowly melt away when he pulls back his sleeve to scent him. “Having a gorgeous model is half the battle, actually.”
Ignoring Jungkook’s teasing, Taehyung slides his hand around the back of Jungkook’s neck to pull him closer.
“I love you, bun.”
Jungkook can’t answer, though he doesn’t need to. His lips speak in other ways when Taehyung slips his tongue between them. Unlike before, their kiss isn’t heated or rushed. It’s sensual, but Jungkook is learning that all intimacy with Taehyung, sexual or not, is still somehow sensual. But this kiss feels comforting rather than rousing. It lulls Jungkook instead of stimulating him, and he likes the reassurance that it brings.
"Is this your final courting gift, too?" Taehyung asks once they've finally detached from each other.
Jungkook blushes with a shy, "Yes."
Months ago, Yoongi told Jungkook that pursuing a predator hybrid would break his heart. For the first time in his life, Jungkook feels like his heart finally has a home.
-
“Would you like me to speak with your parents, Jungkook?”
“Oh, no, no, that’s okay!” Jungkook politely but quickly shuts down Mr. Kim’s offer. “They’re, uh, they would probably be upset if they heard it from anyone other than me.”
With an understanding smile, Mr. Kim resumes cleaning the kitchen, though his endeavor must begin with decluttering, considering all the appliances and utensils tossed around. It’s the life of a chef and restaurant owner, Taehyung had groaned as he complained about how long it would take for them to eat dinner when his father had created a disaster in the kitchen.
Jungkook is eager to scramble out of the kitchen and return to his spot on the living room couch with Taehyung, bringing two bottles of beer given to him by Mr. Kim.
“What was appa talking to you about?” Taehyung asks, before opening his mouth for Jungkook to give him a sip of beer. He looks like a baby bird waiting to be fed, and it makes Jungkook giggle despite how his stomach twists with new nerves.
“He asked me if I told my parents I’m staying with you for winter break yet…”
“Well, have you?” Taehyung raises his eyebrows, but he keeps his eyes on the TV.
Jungkook feels like he needs to remind Taehyung to blink occasionally, but he doesn’t. This is Taehyung’s first time playing video games; Jungkook may as well let him get the authentic gamer experience by fucking up his eyes.
“No.”
“Bun,” Taehyung’s scolding is cut short by a string of expletives when his video game character is murdered.
It shouldn’t be a surprise that Taehyung would choose to play a game about a virus that turns humans into vampires and the human hunters dedicating their lives to slaying them. Violent video games aren’t Jungkook’s preference, but it certainly feeds into the stereotypes about predatory hybrids.
“I’m nervous about it…”
“What’s the worst thing that’ll happen? They’ll get upset, and then they’ll get over it. It’s not like you’ll never come back ever again.”
Taehyung is right, but he’s also wrong. Is Jungkook being dramatic? Perhaps, but he knows his parents better than everyone else, and he knows that they are sensitive.
“Let me talk to them. Do a video call so they can see how handsome I am, and they’ll know you made the right choice.”
Rolling his eyes, Jungkook takes a few more sips of his beer to take the edge off his nerves before he gets up, phone heavy in his hand like a weapon or a ball and chain.
“Pray for me,” Jungkook mumbles into Taehyung’s hair when he kisses him.
“Tell them I’ll eat them if they’re mean to you. I like how bunnies taste.”
“Oh my gosh, Taehyung, your appa is right there,” Jungkook whispers harshly, but Taehyung’s boxy grin is the symbol of audacity.
Jungkook uses Taehyung’s bedroom to make the phone call. It takes a few minutes of Jungkook biting at a hangnail before he randomly chooses his father to call, having no idea which of his parents will be the least likely to be upset over the news. Jungkook wonders if other college students must worry about having this conversation when they go away for breaks.
Before visiting the Kims, Jungkook tried to do a roleplay scenario with Suyun and Yoongi to see if that would help him plan what to say.
Yoongi was too scary to talk to; Jungkook kept slipping up. The more he talked, the worse it got, until he was practically sharing the whole story of his romance with Taehyung to justify why he was choosing to stay with a predator hybrid.
“Well, don’t tell them what he is!” is what Suyun had insisted.
“True… I don’t have to. It would be lying, though. I’m so bad at lying!”
“It’s not lying. It’s just withholding information. Totally different.”
As usual, Jungkook thinks hanging out with predators changed Suyun — but probably for the better.
With a sigh, Jungkook sets his phone on speaker and lies on Taehyung’s bed, counting each ring and thinking that his heartbeat somehow harmonizes with it.
“Jungkook-ah?”
“Oh, eomma, hi. Where’s appa?”
Jungkook doesn’t think it matters which one of his parents hears the news first, but he doesn’t like being caught off guard. Despite being proud of how much confidence he has gained and the personal growth he has experienced since transferring to Seoul, Jungkook still feels like a kid when around his parents.
“He went into town for groceries but forgot his phone again. I think I need to buy him one of those watches. Do you know the ones?”
“A smartwatch?”
Despite their flaws, Jungkook loves his parents. It’s just that the love they all share for each other is different, and it isn’t always easy. Jungkook feels that love while his mother rambles about his father being forgetful, and he reminds himself that Taehyung is right. This isn’t the end of the world.
“Hey, eomma, I can’t talk for a long time right now, but I needed to tell you I have a boyfriend now…” Jungkook takes a deep breath and continues before his mother can respond, “And I’m going to stay with him and his family for winter break.”
The silence that follows is expected. Because of this, Jungkook hears the bedroom door open, and he nods when Taehyung asks for permission to come inside. He sits on the bed beside Jungkook, who is now lying on his stomach, and gently scratches the base of Jungkook’s ears.
“Oh. For the whole break?”
“Mhm.”
“You didn’t tell me you had a boyfriend.”
Jungkook cringes. “I know, eomma. I’m sorry.”
Taehyung doesn’t seem offended. He plays with Jungkook’s hair and ears and keeps quiet to let Jungkook think.
“Hmm, Jungkook-ah, I hope he is treating you well. Is he smart? What is he studying? What do his parents do for a living?”
“Ah, please, don’t interrogate me!”
“I’m just asking simple questions every eomma should know.”
“We can talk later, okay? I will call you, and we’ll talk with appa, too.”
One day, Jungkook will tell his parents more than the bare minimum details about the boy who holds his heart. For now, Jungkook tells his mother he loves her and tosses his phone off to the side once the call ends so the pretty tiger, who smells like summer rain, can shower him with sweet kisses until all of Jungkook’s worries are washed away.
“I can’t wait to meet them,” Taehyung purrs against Jungkook’s throat, where he kisses him. “How many times do you think I should visit with them before I ask them if I can marry you?”
“Stop it,” Jungkook whispers, though Taehyung can’t tell if Jungkook is scolding him for what he said about marriage or for how he’s got Jungkook flat on his back with his leg hiked up over his waist so he can grind their hips together.
Both? Either? Jungkook doesn’t know.
“Did you know Jackson can officiate weddings?” Taehyung asks with a slow roll of his hips. They’re both in jeans and sweaters; Taehyung just likes being a tease.
“Taehyung.”
“I heard sex feels different after you’re mated.”
“Taehyung. You’re so gross.”
Jungkook throws his arms over Taehyung’s shoulders and crushes him against his chest, ready to drown in the giggles he earns in response, giggles from a big, scary tiger who is utterly whipped for his bun. Who would have thought?
Series Masterlist
Disclaimer: All my writing is fictional and for entertainment purposes only. None of these characters are meant to actually represent the real people mentioned in the stories.
All rights reserved © @gimmethatagustd - Do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my writing. Do not use my writing for any AI purposes whatsoever. Do not use my fics for anything aside from reading and commenting on them. My fics will only be posted on this Tumblr and on AO3 (gimmethatagustd & daddytaehyungie).
#taekook#taehyung x jungkook#bts fanfic#taehyung fanfic#jungkook fanfic#bts smut#bts fluff#jungkook smut#jungkook fluff#taehyung fluff#taehyung smut#venor#jai writes#gimmethatagustd
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